Power Couple
by JustBFree
Summary: From their first meeting to where they are now and beyond: The story of Magneto and Mystique
1. First Meeting, First Plan

Chapter 1  
  
The bell rang, alerting the students that there were only five minutes left to talk with their friends in the hallway before their next class began. A couple of students entered the science lab early, although it was with some reluctance. The class could be fun on occasion, but there was really only so much a man could do to make chemical formulas interesting to teenagers.  
  
Nevertheless, he did try.  
  
A lanky young man with oddly dark sunglasses was the first student to enter the classroom. He was nearly as tall as his instructor, and he had dark auburn hair with a matching tan earned by way of outdoor sports rather than hours of sun bathing. The school was still relatively new, and he had been one of the very first students.  
  
His name was Scott Summers.  
  
He was a clean-cut, all-American young man; he could have been an all-star quarterback for a professional football team or the President of the United States. Either dream was as easy to accomplish for him as the other.  
  
He could have been, under different circumstances. Yet, with the world the way it was, they would remain just that: dreams.  
  
A few steps behind him was his lovely girlfriend. Her hair was as red as a crackling fire, her only outstanding physical feature. She had bright green eyes and a peaches and cream complexion, complete with a subtle dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose.  
  
Her name was Jean Grey, a student of equal potential to Scott. They both greeted the teacher, who stood at the blackboard, and took their seats next to each other at a lab table. The rest of the students wandered in after the final bell and prepared themselves for another physics lesson with Mr. Lehnsherr.  
  
He turned to face them, ready to educate. He was an intelligent man, and that simple fact seemed to radiate from him. He looked as intelligent as he was. Nearly six feet tall, he had a bold physique that contrasted with his charismatic personality. His head was crowned with dark hair that swept back off his face. His angular features complimented his glacial blue eyes and thin, cleverly smirking mouth.  
  
Lehnsherr cocked an eyebrow at one of his students.  
  
"Mr. Worthington, please discard that bubble gum. Thank you." The young man he had addressed did as he was told.  
  
While Warren was walking across the room, trying not to knock anything over with the angelic wings that grew from his back, the teacher noticed a new presence in his class.  
  
In the very back, at the table closest to the door, sat what appeared to be nothing more than a pile of clothes. The student-whoever it was- was wearing layer upon layer of clothing, despite the warm weather outside the school windows. Quite odd, but it was obvious that the student did not want any attention drawn to itself, so he decided to ask Charles about it later.  
  
At the moment, there was a room filled with students that needed to be taught.  
  
*****^^^^^*****  
  
"All right, everyone, good work. Remember to study the vocabulary notes for the test on Monday." He reminded the students as they filed out the door. His mystery student was the first one out; he had missed his chance at introductions. He glanced at his watch. He still had time to meet Charles before he gave his next class.  
  
Charles Xavier organized the papers on his large oak desk. Looking over them, he entered the new enrollment information into his computer. A faint "ping-ping-ping" sound chimed on the corner of his desk. It seemed as if his paperclips had suddenly decided to start spinning and dancing of their own accord.  
  
Sighing, he looked at his wristwatch; the hands were spinning backwards.  
  
He was not terribly concerned, of course. He had seen these little tricks before. Rather than gasp in amazement, he simply recognized it as the tell tale sign that Eric was close by. It seemed that he would forever be correcting his watch hands as one of the more annoying side effects of his friend's power.  
  
He didn't even blink an eye when the double doors opened on their own, and Eric entered his office.  
  
"Good afternoon, Eric. How has your day been so far?" he asked his friend.  
  
Eric took a seat across from Charles, on the other side of his desk. "It was all right, the students are progressing." He looked at his colleague and friend, fully expecting an explanation, but Charles simply sat back and shrugged.  
  
"Charles, we both know why I am here, so why not just tell me?" Charles smiled at his friend's usual directness.  
  
"Well, since you asked," he laughed, "The new student you are so curious about is somewhat of a mystery to me as well. It is a female, but she declined to offer any important details other than her name."  
  
Eric urged him on, "Tell me that at least, won't you?" Charles clicked an icon on his computer screen and read a few lines. "Oh, here we are. The only name she would give me was Mystique. It sounds made up; she's probably another runaway, but it's best that she's here rather than on the streets, especially with her mutation."  
  
Eric considered the new information. "What kind of mutation does she have?"  
  
Charles shook his head. "I'm not sure of the exact abilities, but I'm positive that it's a purely physical manifestation. I entered her mind for a quick glance, and I saw what she looks like under all those layers of clothes."  
  
To emphasize his point, Charles projected the image into his friend's mind. Patchy blue and creamy skin...red streaked hair...eyes fading from blue to yellow...Eric nodded, understanding. "Well, she was very withdrawn today. She didn't even alert me to her presence, she's probably worried about the other students' reactions. Perhaps in time she will open up."  
  
Charles agreed. "Yes, Eric, I'm sure she will; especially with you as her mentor."  
  
*****^^^^^*****  
  
Eric left Charles's office with a handshake and went on to teach the rest of his classes for the day. The new student, Mystique, had nearly faded from his memory by nightfall. He had been setting out his lesson plan in his bedroom, and accessing his computer that night, when he checked his messages and found that Charles had sent him the information on Mystique.  
  
His interest piqued, he pulled up the file.  
  
There was no useful information. Her name: Mystique, no last name. Height: 5'7" Enrollment time: 7:30 am. Age: 19. Her weight, of course, was left blank. Eric rolled his eyes. Typical American woman, always so concerned with such petty details of themselves.  
  
It went on, Mutation: Abilities not confirmed, suspected as physical. It did not reveal her birth date, family information or where she came from. This meant she was a runaway who did not want to be found. 'Yes, I will help that poor girl. To think, being a runaway in a time like this! It is far too dangerous for anyone to be on the streets. Hmm, Mystique, Mystique. I suspect that you hide many secrets, girl, and I will learn them all.' He thought as he closed her file.  
  
*****^^^^^*****  
  
Eric had kept an eye on Mystique for the next several days, yet he had not approached her. While he was up in his bedroom, he had seen her through his window. Still bundled in her layers upon layers, she seemed to be hiding behind a small grove of trees from a group of passing students.  
  
He frowned, thinking how lonely her life must be. What he had seen spurred him on, he had decided to at least try to talk to her today.  
  
He addressed the class, "Now if you studied then I'm sure you did fine. You're free to go, enjoy your weekend." He saw Mystique rise, and called after her. "Um, Mystique, I'd like you to stay after a minute."  
  
She turned to face him, and for a split second, he thought that he saw a reflection of yellow, like a cat's eyes shine back at him from under her sweatshirt hood. It was gone in an instant, and he dismissed it from his mind.  
  
She sat back down in her seat, and he sat down across from her. The silence between them was uneasy, and he thought it best to make small talk. "So how do you like your classes so far?"  
  
When she spoke, her voice was almost echoing into his ears. 'It must be part of her mutation', he thought as he tried to concentrate on what she said, rather than the sound of it. "They're fine."  
  
"That's good...so, how long have you been enrolled here?"  
  
"A week."  
  
"A week already? Aren't you homesick?"  
  
"No." she bit out. He had seemed to strike a chord with her when he mentioned her home, and decided to prod just a little further. "You must be just a little homesick, almost all of the students here start to miss their families within the first month."  
  
He saw Mystique's concealed frame stiffen, "No, not me, I don't have a family to miss."  
  
Eric had not been expecting her to say that, and he could relate to the pain in her voice. "I'm sorry, Mystique. I should have known better than to ask about such personal matters." He paused, considering his next words carefully. " I think that it's important for you to know that we can be your family... but only if you let us."  
  
The young woman still had her guard up, she wasn't used to this sort of kindness, and it made her uncomfortable. "Thanks, but I'll be fine on my own." Eric knew that it was time to back off.  
  
"Okay, but if you change your mind, that offer will still be on the table." His last statement seemed to reach her in some small way.  
  
Her voice was tight and forced, "Thank you."  
  
So it went for the next few weeks, Mystique would stay after class without Eric even having to ask her. They would talk for a few precious minutes before she went to her next lesson. He hadn't learned anything groundbreaking about her past, but she had begun to trust him. She had even revealed to him the reason she wore so many layers of clothes.  
  
One day, his curiosity had simply gotten the best of him, and he decided to ask her. "Mystique, why are you here?" the question was simple and direct, she'd have no way to avoid it.  
  
She was quiet for nearly a full minute before she finally reacted. "It...I don't know, it just kind of happened over night, I just woke up and I didn't look like me anymore..." Her words had failed her, so she elected to show him what she was trying to communicate.  
  
She pulled off a glove, and showed him her bare hand.  
  
It was a humanoid hand: four fingers and an opposable thumb. Her digits were slender, tipped with feminine nails. The only difference between her hand and his own was the coloring. While his skin was the more commonplace cream color of a white man's, her skin had somehow taken on a deep indigo shade. The top of her hand was also decorated by what looked like raised, reflective scales.  
  
Eric looked back to her; she was hanging her head in shame. It was obvious that she fully expected his revulsion. He smiled sadly, she must have been so frightened when she woke up and saw how her body had changed. He covered her hand with his own to give her some measure of comfort when he heard her choking, hitching sounds of crying.  
  
He removed his hand when she calmed down a little, and cried out, "What on earth?" her hand was now an exact replica of his own!  
  
"I can do that sometimes," Mystique began to explain, "If I concentrate hard enough, I can change into other people. But not forever, I have to change back into myself after a while."  
  
As he watched, her hand changed back into its original state. Before he could respond, Jean barged into his classroom. "Mr. Lehnsherr, there's something you should see downstairs!"  
  
He and Mystique followed her downstairs to the rec room, where a large gathering of the oldest students were watching a televised senatorial debate. As usual, the topic du jour was over mutant rights.  
  
Robert Kelley declared, "Mutants are nothing if not unpredictable, dangerous and untrustworthy. They should not be allowed to teach impressionable young human minds, nor be treated in the same hospitals."  
  
Eric's blood boiled.  
  
He had heard this argument before, in his native Poland. It was because of a similar fear of the unknown that he had lost his parents, his sister and all of his childhood friends. He had nearly died from starvation in a concentration camp. That cruelty, that horror...Senator Kelley was proposing separation of mutant and humans. He knew that if the law passed and mutants were separated, it would be that much easier for them to be targeted for hate crimes.  
  
Suddenly, he could hear no more, he needed some air, and went outside. He shoved past the other students and teachers, nearly ripping the door off its hinges with his power. Mystique had seen him leave, and silently, she followed him.  
  
Her eyes searched the dark campus, but it was her ears that found him. Strange, completely alien sounds of an unknown language could be heard, almost growled in a furious voice.  
  
She followed the voice until she found him, pacing angrily back and forth in the garden. She had never seen him angry before; she was startled, but not afraid. She knew he wouldn't hurt her, but the harsh words on the television had greatly upset him. Cautiously, she spoke.  
  
"Mr. Lehnsherr, I'm sorry about Senator Kelley."  
  
Obviously, he had assumed that he was alone. He spun around to face her, and after a moment, he sighed. "Mystique, you have nothing to apologize for. This is a burden that your generation should not have to carry. If Charles would just stop holding me back, all of this hatred would soon be a distant memory!" he ground out. Charles was his friend, but the man simply did not want to realize what has already begun.  
  
He looked back at Mystique. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to burst out like that. I just wish to change the way things are for our kind. Mutants have far too little support in the world. If Senator Kelley were to reverse his position, then I'm sure things would be better for all of us."  
  
Mystique nodded, silent.  
  
"I've seen this before, you know, in Europe. We shouldn't have to be subjected to this kind of abuse. We're better than that!" He spat angrily.  
  
"You can't change people's minds, Mr. Lehnsherr. But maybe the Professor could." Mystique said from behind him.  
  
Eric noticed that her voice had deepened and he turned to look at her again. She had changed her face and her voice to match Charles exactly. Eric's brow furrowed, "What do you have in mind?"  
  
Neither one of them could have known that their futures were going to be shaped that night. 


	2. Caught and Leaving

Eric entered Charles's office quietly; fully prepared for whatever tirade he would be obligated to listen to. His friend was furious, that much was obvious from the fire in his eyes.   
  
But beyond the simple anger, Eric could see betrayal, pain and disappointment.   
  
However, Eric did not see any surprise...it was almost as if Charles had expected him to act out in some way. It had only been a question of when. Eric sat down across from his old-and possibly former- friend.   
  
When he spoke, Charles's voice seemed choked with a lump of emotion. "How could you, Eric? We built the Cerebro together; as a tool to help the people of the world, not to manipulate them into our favor! You deliberately went behind my back, violating my trust; you have lied to me day after day. And to make matters worse, you had to drag a student into all of this. For God's sake, Eric, why?! What were you trying to accomplish?" His friend demanded of him.   
  
Eric had never seen Charles so angry-or hurt- before, and it pained him greatly to know that he was the cause his friend's troubles. But Charles didn't seem to understand anything! He wanted to hide in his mansion and teach English Literature until the end of time, he didn't want to believe that a war was coming. He refused to believe that what had happened to Eric and his family could happen again.   
  
The thought angered and frustrated him. "I was trying to protect us, Charles. There are more mutants in the world than can fit in your school. How long do you think that you can hide the ones that are already here? How much time to you believe you have left before the government begins to develop solutions to the 'mutant problem'? Before they begin to develop machines and diseases designed to target mutants? Action must be taken, Charles, and we both know that it won't be by you."   
  
Charles sat back in his chair, searching desperately for a way to calm his friend. "Eric, I know you have reasons for thinking what you do. After all they put you through...but this is madness! You can't wage a war against mankind!"   
  
Eric stood abruptly, knocking over his chair. He glared down at Charles, and for a moment, he felt a burning hatred towards him. He hated Charles for having the family that he had been deprived of. He hated Charles for never having felt the pain of starvation, for never having felt actual fear for his life. Charles never had to look at his reflection and be reminded everyday of his past. He hated Charles for being so naïve about the world.   
  
In an instant, the moment of hatred was gone, as was any hope of Eric's that Charles might share his view. "Watch me."   
  
*****^^^^^*****  
  
  
  
Mystique sat on the staircase, waiting for Eric to finish his meeting with the professor. They were both in trouble, no doubt about that. Their plan had been practically fool proof, but it seemed as if she was not the only good spy at the school. It was a simple, short plan. It had been perfect!   
  
All they did was have her change into the professor, and fool the retinal scanner. Then, Eric was let into the chamber. He was a brilliant engineer and already had a working knowledge of the tool. After only ten minutes, he had rewired it specifically for Senator Kelly's brainwaves. This way, the next time the professor used it, a signal would trigger a reversal of opinion in the senator. They had finished the job and almost made it back safely.   
  
Almost.   
  
That teacher's pet Scott Summers had seen them enter the lower tunnels and told some other teachers. Mystique never liked Scott. Everyone had put all the blame on Eric, like he had forced her into it, and he had done nothing to deny the accusations. That was just the type of person he was, a real gentlemen when it came to things like this.   
  
They had grown to know each other very well over the months, so well that -they were no longer student and teacher, they were kindred spirits- he had even suggested that she discard with formalities and call him by his first name.   
  
She would not find out until many years later that he had done that simply because he liked the way her voice sounded when she said his name, the way her echoing voice caressed each syllable. He would never tell anyone that she was his accomplice. She was a willing partner, of course, she had volunteered her assistance and had planted the whole idea in his mind.   
  
She was not as innocent as the others thought.   
  
She had been tracing the scale pattern on the back of her forearm when she heard a thunderous echo. 'Is that Ororo girl mad again?' she asked herself, thinking of she new student who could control the weather elements.   
  
Her head jerked to the source of the sound, and saw Eric emerge from the professor's office. He had been so angry that he slammed the door and was storming straight towards her. He walked past her, and straight outside.   
  
"Eric, what happened?" she asked as she followed him. He was storming straight for the front gate, and only spared her a glance.   
  
"I'm leaving this school, Mystique. If you have any sense at all, then I suggest you do the same; unless you think the world will simply open up and accept everyone and everything different from the norm. I, however, have already seen the consequences of such idiotic blindness." Mystique kept following him as the weight of his words sunk in.   
  
He was leaving. But what about all they had shared, everything he had done to help her? No one else at the school had been near as kind or understanding. He was her only friend at the whole institute. It was because of him that the face she saw in the mirror everyday didn't seem frightening, but beautiful. In that moment of realization, Mystique made a last, desperate decision.   
  
Going with him felt right, as if they belonged together.   
  
He had walked ahead of her, his figure silhouetted against the setting sun. She ran after him, calling out, "Eric, wait for me!" he stopped and turned to her, patiently waiting for her to catch up to him. Once she reached him, she asked, "Please, take me with you. I don't have any reason to stay, no one other than you has accepted me." he gave her a look of approval, like she had just aced once of his hardest tests. "All right, my dear." He responded. She smiled, and they both walked away from the mansion, not looking back. 


	3. Magneto

I never would have expected the young Mystique to want to come along when I left Charles's school. I told her it would have been smart to leave, but I had not meant for her to leave with me! Yet, I remembered that she had no family, no one she could trust. If she were to just leave now, where would she go?   
  
She would be an easy target for the thieves in the city, being a young woman, and what if someone should see her true face? More likely than anything else, she would meet her death by a gangster's bullet. I couldn't let that happen, so I allowed her to come with me.   
  
I have been more or less alone for much of my life, and suddenly having a companion can be a difficult transition. Not that I minded having company for once, but it was certainly an adjustment.   
  
Everything had just happened so fast.   
  
Our plan might have even worked if not for Scott...but it is pointless to split hairs. The fact remains that Charles and I will probably never see eye to eye again.   
  
Did we ever? Perhaps in the beginning, but probably never again. I'm sorry, Charles.   
  
Mystique felt that she would be better off with me than in the school, especially now that everyone would know she was involved in the tampering with Cerebro. No one knew that she was my accomplice, of course. I gave everyone who inquired the idea that I had somehow forced her into the whole ordeal, manipulating her, taking advantage of her very useful abilities. There was no reason to allow her reputation sink down to my mischievous level.   
  
Yet she was adamant that she come with me, who was I to argue?   
  
*****^^^^^*****  
  
It had started out innocently enough. We made our way to the city and found an upscale hotel with a vacancy. It was a one-bed room, which was no huge obstacle. I let her have the bed, and slept on the couch.   
  
Sleep did not necessarily come to me easy that night. I was used to being on my own...for many long years. I had known that my employment at Charles's wouldn't last forever; yet, when I left I had not been counting on taking anyone along. Now that I had Mystique here with me, I was responsible for her.   
  
What were we going to do? We couldn't just stay in this hotel forever! We needed a plan.  
  
Once I awoke the next morning, Mystique had made breakfast. She poured me a cup of coffee and sat across the table from me. She had asked what we were going to do, and I told her that we would have to find a base of operations. She agreed.  
  
I still had the gold that Charles and I came upon while in Israel. If I were to help my mutant people, I certainly had the means to afford it. Almost by some ironic cliché, I purchased an island as the base for my "evil" headquarters.   
  
Personally, I thought it had much potential underneath its rugged exterior. Mystique and I changed the island until it suited our needs; we carved out the rock and built the interior until the island's wilderness mingled with my architecture. I knew that it was perfect when Mystique gave me a hundred-watt smile.   
  
That may have been the exact moment when things began to escalate.   
  
*****^^^^^*****  
  
Over the years, we made progress in our fight for mutant power. She was able to infiltrate government agencies and retrieve large amounts of information. Her control over her abilities grew with every transformation she performed.   
  
There were, however, certain limits. While she could create the illusion of clothing from her flesh, she could not rid herself of the clothes that she was wearing already. This often created problems, and she had a simple solution: she would walk naked.   
  
At first, it was awkward for both of us, but over time, we were able to adjust. She looked like no other woman I had ever seen before. Her body was lithe and sleekly muscular, yet not without its feminine curves. In time, it was commonplace to see her walk with her head held high, proud of her indigo skin.   
  
*^*^*^*  
  
However, her pride once cost her dearly. While in the city for more information retrieval, someone saw her out of disguise. They saw her in true form, and panicked.   
  
Security guards swarmed her, and I had to come to the rescue.   
  
Often during her more dangerous assignments, I would act as an unseen guardian.   
  
I was almost too late. She was beaten senseless, and I had to take her back home. I cared for her a great deal, and I had not realized just how much my young protégé...no, how much my friend meant to me...until she was almost taken away.   
  
I was surprised at the emotion. I thought that such feelings had left me when Magda did...  
  
I had stood at the doorway to her room, watching her as she slept. She had not taken on any fatal damage; she'd be back on her feet in a week or so. She rolled over onto her side, the blanket fell to the floor. I couldn't help myself; my eyes took in the lines and shadows of her body. The long legs stretched out behind her; her arm resting on her torso, protecting her stomach. Her other arm curled under her head, used as a second pillow. The scales visible to me on her arm, chest and legs began to flutter. I wasn't familiar with what it could have meant, was she cold?   
  
I entered her room, desperate to be quiet; what would she think if she caught me watching her? She'd think me a sick, voyeuristic hawk; deriving wicked pleasure from spying on a slumbering dove. Quickly, I replaced the blanket over her body and then left the room, retiring to my office.   
  
This is wrong, I know that it is. She was a student of mine, for God's sake! What kind of life had I offered her? One filled with danger and prejudice, as was evidenced by the damage done this very night. I reasoned with myself, thinking that she was safer with me than on the streets, but did she even really need me? With her mutation, she could impersonate anyone. If she so chose, she could have mimicked the richest person in the world, and taken what she needed of their bank accounts.   
  
I had even asked her when she had recovered.  
  
"You would be so much safer if you left me, Mystique, so why do you stay?"   
  
She gave me a confused look, as if the answer should have been obvious. After a long silence, she explained. "Because...being here with you feels right. That's why I left the school with you, because it felt right. It still does."   
  
I had given her a chance at freedom, to escape the dangers that came with being my associate.  
  
She chose to stay. She wanted to stay with me. No one else had given me that much.   
  
The question was answered, and she left me in the office to my own musings as she went on to her bedroom to rest her bruised muscles. She had told me that she loved me with her eyes, her touch and her loyalty. She has not said it with words, but I can read her heart like an open book. 


	4. Mystique

It wasn't as if I had planned to leave with Eric. Yet, at the same time, it wasn't a spontaneous decision, either. Our plan was thwarted, and Eric left the Xavier Institute of his own free will, he wasn't fired, he just walked out. I was following along with him, and I guess it just felt right to go with him.   
  
What other choice did I have? Stay in the school where everyone now knows that I helped him to betray the beloved Professor? The other students weren't exactly friendly to begin with, I didn't see them opening up to me after what we had done.   
  
So I left with Eric. We stayed in a hotel the first night, and then he bought an island. It wasn't your conventional way of finding a home, but nothing about either one of us could ever be described as conventional.   
  
Maybe Eric was at one time. As I understand from gossip at the school and from little clues I pick up from Eric's conversation -"Oh, yes, children are wonderful, aren't they?"- I think he had a normal life once. I think he had a lover or a wife...maybe even a child. It's strange to think of him as a father whenever I watch him. He's so...in control and powerful. I've seen him fight with his magnificent powers, and it seems bizarre, the idea of him bouncing a child on his knee.   
  
Maybe I think about him too much, but it's hard not to. He's just always there, as would be expected when he's the only other person on the island. I think he's handsome. Yeah, yeah, yeah, he's older than me by...a lot, but who cares? We are no longer bound by the constraints of normal society since they rejected us for what we are. I'm not exactly one who gets her pick of men, but even if I were, I would still be here with him.   
  
Unlike so many other people I've met, his life will serve a purpose.   
  
He's misunderstood. If everyone knew what he's been through, then maybe they could understand his motives for fighting. I do, and I fight with him.   
  
He's helped me a great deal with learning to control my powers, and I'm much better at it now. Still, every transformation is an effort, and holding the borrowed form is like an endurance test. Once, someone saw me in my real body. You know, the one covered from head to toe in indigo skin? I was in an office building, posing as a secretary, and someone who was working late saw me while I was taking a break.   
  
I thought I was alone, of course. They called security on me and I wasn't triumphant in that fight.  
  
Eric saved me, like a guardian angel. I knew he was around, even though I couldn't see him. He would sometimes come with me when the missions were a little more potentially dangerous than normal.   
  
He took me back to the island for treatment; when I woke up, he was at my bedside. How nice of him, it was a very caring thing to do. Something about the way he seemed so relieved when I woke up made me feel...cherished, I guess.   
  
I can't really name the feeling, no one has ever made me feel that way before.  
  
He had asked me why I wanted to stay with him and I gave him the answer straight from my heart. "Because...being here with you feels right. That's why I left the school with you, because it felt right. It still does." I left him then, and went to my room.  
  
Once I was inside, I realized how much he meant to me. He was not only my savior, he was my friend. However, strange feelings toward him were beginning to grow inside. Like I would find myself looking at him for longer than I should. Or thinking about what it would be like to be with him...if I weren't so revolting, surely he would reject any advance I made. I must not let my foolish thoughts get in the way of what we are doing here!   
  
I think that I am beginning to love you, Eric. And I'm sorry you will never feel the same towards me. 


	5. Together

Author's note: Okay, the rest of this story is like G to PG-13, but I'll warn you right now, this chapter is 'R'! It has a graphic (not too graphic though, I've read worse) scene of consenting adults doing the dirty dirty. Now, if you choose to read this, don't say I didn't warn you! P.S.- if you want to review and tell me how gross it was to read, just think about how hard it was to write, ok? You have to take a long look in the mirror after that, my friend! Just pretend like you're watching the movie...what's so gross about a 65-year-old gay Shakespearian actor and a painted blue supermodel going at it? Tymberwolf, this one's for you! ;)

Eric Magnus Lehnsherr sat alone in his office, staring at a small picture. The photo was old, as was evidenced by the peeling edges and faded image. It was the only photograph he was able to recover after he was free of the Nazis. The only picture he had of his family. His icy blue gaze carefully took in every detail captured in the photo.

His father. He had been an intelligent man, a kind man. The type of man that most young boys look up to, hoping they can be that great when they reach adulthood. An applied scholar, he had worked in a university as a teacher to provide for his family. Eric's features were reminiscent of his father's; the widow's peak of thick dark hair, the angular cheekbones, the large build of their bodies. Eric's fingertips lightly brushed the image, wondering if his father were alive this very moment, would he be proud of his son?

Eric's mother, such a lovely woman. She had loved to play the violin and piano. The home they shared was filled with music and happiness. From what Eric could remember, she was a good wife and mother. Dinner was always a hearty meal, with a tasty dessert to follow. Their home was always clean, but not so tidy that it didn't seem comfortable. Eric had inherited her blue eyes; his father's were dark brown. His mother would often tell him that he made the sky jealous, for his gaze was bluer than the heavens above.

Then, that day of horrors that was the first in a line of so many. The Nazis broke into their home, hustling he and his parents out into the street, along with their neighbors.

A long train ride, nearly three days.

Then, they were separated.

It was bitter cold, freezing rain pouring down on them.

Eric had fought to get back to his parents, but the guards were too strong.

He had nearly tore down that gate...he was so close.

A guard had hit him, and his parents were dragged away.

That was the last time he had ever seen them.

His mind was so occupied with nostalgia that he hadn't noticed Mystique enter his chamber. Eric did not acknowledge her presence at all; he was too focused on the small photograph he held in his hands.

Eric did not cry on this day, the anniversary of his parents' and his separation. That's what the Nazis wanted. They had wanted him to cry, so they could take more pleasure in beating him, in starving him. It would have meant that the Nazis had won if he began to sob like the little boy they had killed so long ago with their cruelty.

Mystique had become concerned. He had not come out of his chamber all day, not to greet her in the morning or to converse with her during the afternoon. She felt a slight tremor of trepidation before entering; he may not have wanted her to interrupt, but she would risk it.

The door was unlocked, and she slowly opened it. After a few seconds, she had poked her head inside, and saw Eric behind the desk in the cavernous office space. He held something in his hands, and his eyes were staring off into space. The luster and vibrancy of his presence was vanished. 

Mystique couldn't read the expression on his face, it was completely alien. She had seen him angry, surprised, in awe...what was the emotion he was displaying?

Then it came to her: he looked as if he was in mourning. Mystique's mind scrambled with questions. What could have happened?

Quickly, she went to him. Kneeling by his side, she took his hand in both of hers. He hadn't even realized that she was there, and he looked down on her with surprise.

She saw past the initial startled-ness, and saw how hurt and vulnerable he was at this moment. "Eric," she whispered, "What's happened?"

He did not answer her with words, but she could read his body language. His shoulders had stiffened, and he avoided her eyes. Glancing at his picture, she understood. She could safely assume that his past had come back to haunt him again. He had rarely talked to her about it, but sometimes she heard him when he was asleep. Mumbling in German and calling out for someone named 'Anya' or 'Magda', loud enough to be heard through the walls.

His poor soul, what had they done to him, all those years ago?

As if he could sense her insights and conclusion, he stood abruptly, breaking their mental and physical contact. He was walking away, but she called out to him.

"Eric, please, come back. Talk to me."

The small plea had the power to make him stop and turn to face her. More than anything, she wanted to comfort him, make him forget his horrible past; though such a thing was impossible.

However, perhaps she could make him forget just for a few precious moments; she could remind him that he was not alone in this world, he had her.

She walked the few steps toward him, and looped her arms under his in a gentle hug. Eric's posture stiffened at the close contact; he had been without such affection for so long, he had almost forgotten how to return it. 

However, he did not want her to think that her kindness was unappreciated. After a moment's hesitation, he stiffly mimicked her movement, awkwardly clasping his arms around her waist, returning the embrace.

Mystique could feel his muscles relax under her hands. She hugged him a little bit closer, closing the gap between them; she was pleased when he rested his chin on the crown of her head, yielding to her intimate affections. He could feel her body under his hands, warm and welcoming; as had been happening a lot lately, his mind began to wander...

She shifted slightly in his arms, and he immediately released her, feeling horribly foolish for allowing himself to be so caught up in the moment.

_'It was just a hug after all, what did it mean to her? Nothing!_' he mentally abused himself.

Ashamed of the weakness he had displayed earlier, and the fleeting thoughts that had run through his mind just now, he stared at the floor like a schoolboy that had been called up to the black board.

Mystique stood back to watch him for only a second before touching him once again. Slowly, she reached up to him, her hand caressing his face. She brought his gaze to hers, and she kissed him.

It was a tender kiss. One meant more for comfort than seduction. Her lips had only just brushed his, and she was shocked once she felt him respond to her, hungrily.

If anything, she would have expected no reaction at all. His lips would remain flaccid under hers, accepting the kiss without return, and then they would never speak of it again, they would go on as if it had never happened.

However, when the first kiss ended, Eric claimed her mouth more passionately than she would have ever imagined.

He was full of surprises.

It was a side of him that she had never known. To her he had been a friend, a confidant, a savior and a kindred spirit.

But never a lover.

Abruptly, he broke the kiss and held her at arm's length. "I shouldn't have, I'm sorry..." he panted.

Mystique grasped his wrists and made him release her shoulders. "Don't be...I'm not." she told him, also breathing heavy. She came forward again, cutting off his next statement with a kiss. Eric responded to her eagerly, it had been so long since he'd gotten close to anyone.

Mystique started forward when she felt the damp touch of his tongue and the soft suction of his lips as he pressed a kiss to the spot where her neck met her shoulder. Eric's strong, slender hands had snaked down to grasp her hips, bringing her dangerously close. Mystique glanced down a moment, startled by the stark contrast of his pale hand resting against the deep indigo of her skin.

There was not a sliver of light between them now. Mystique felt that he was killing her, reducing her to nothing more than a mindless, reactive collection of nerves, sensation and anticipation. Her ability to think was quickly evaporating by the touch of his hands on her body and the whisper of his voice in her ears.

Again, he went against his desire for her, "Mystique, please, we must stop." He begged, trying to remain a gentleman. He didn't want her to think of him as base, but his lust was nearly overwhelming!

"Why? What's wrong?" she asked, hoping to keep the pain from her voice. Was it her? Surely it was, what man in his right man would want such a hideous creature like her?

Eric still held her close, "Is this what you truly want?" he asked, hoping for a positive answer. True, he wanted her desperately; but it was more than that, he wanted to show her how much she meant to him.

He felt that they were acting too rash; he didn't want this to be something that she regretted later on. He knew how to please a woman, but he never entered into relationships lightly. He would make no more advances until she allowed him.

"Yes," Mystique declared. "What about you? Are you sure?"

Eric brought her close, whispering, "I've dreamt of this for months."

Mystique brought her lips to his, silently promising everything he had in mind.

Almost by instinct, they had made it into his bedroom. Eric laid her down on the bed, and then just stared at her.

Mystique looked back at him, suddenly wondering if he had changed his mind. Perhaps feeling her scales beneath his hands had disgusted him and he was thinking of a way to articulate his rejection of her.

_'What was I thinking? I knew I was an idiot for even thinking that he could ever..._' As if Eric could hear what she was thinking, he put her fears to rest with a single sentence.

"You are beautiful." He whispered, his deep voice becoming husky with desire.

Mystique was floored. No one, not even her own mother, had ever called her beautiful. To hear the compliment roll off his tongue, tinged with his distinct accent, was something she would always remember. 

Teasingly, he ran his hand up her leg; stroking her inner thigh.

He bent down to kiss her, and covered her body with his own. He was warm and powerful; his larger body hovered over her as he settled his weight on his arms. They shared a long look of unspoken love and Eric moved to cover her body with his own; his hips hovered over hers briefly before he settled harder onto her. Eric lifted the back of Mystique's head up to his for an avaricious, demanding kiss.

Mystique arched her back against the mattress as she kissed him again. She ran her hands through his soft, silver hair. Suddenly, a last dying thought jumped up to the surface of her drowning mind and she closed her legs against his body. Eric's brow rose in confusion.

"Wait, I don't have any protection…" she panted sorrowfully. Magneto's harsh features relaxed into a faint expression of disappointment and reassurance. "You don't have to worry, Mystique, I've taken the preventative measures years ago."

Mystique's eyes widened at his admission but didn't say anything. "Mystique," he said, his voice a rich, velvet baritone that commanded her. She acquiesced instantly, relaxing around him as he settled onto her and not breaking eye contact as he began the slow invasion of her body. 

Eric was a man who liked to take time with everything he did; from defeating his opponents to seducing his women. His skills were not wasted.

The next morning, Eric was the first to rouse. After a night of passion, the mind is slow to regain its usual sharpness, and Eric was no exception. At first, he was startled to find a companion in his bed. Then, the past night's memories came flooding back. With self-indulgent, masculine pride, he was pleased with himself to find Mystique sleeping so soundly; she had good reason to be exhausted.

He smiled, thinking of the night before.

He watched her sleep. She was beautiful.

He showered, shaved, and went to the kitchen. He poured a cup of coffee for himself, and waited for Mystique to join him. Apparently, she had gotten up minutes after he had, and came to him as he had expected.

She smiled at him, as he did to her. As it was almost from the beginning of their relationship, there was no need for words.


	6. Jealousy

Mystique and I had become lovers.  
  
It was not something we had planned. It was certainly the last thing I expected to happen on that day. The day that I usually reserve for contemplative silence and nostalgia; the day when I simply go back in my mind and remember what life was like before the entire world turned to Hell.   
  
I had not left my chamber at all that day, and I suppose she became concerned. Lovely woman, so beautiful.   
  
She had only wanted to know what was wrong, she wanted to help.   
  
But how could I tell her all the details of my past?  
  
Surely, it would have been better to tell her nothing at all. I know that she has suspicions, and she probably knows how I had been a victim, along with my parents. There are other things, however, that are best left unsaid and not thought about.   
  
Even after years of camaraderie, neither of us had made any advances of the romantic kind...despite the obvious tensions building in that category.   
  
We share a great bond. It is more than our mutual quest for mutant power, more than our now realized feelings for each other. It was something else; I have never felt this before, and I suspect that she has not either.   
  
After her years with me, she has undergone an inward transformation; from the shy, self-loathing girl I met at Charles's school to the powerful, proud woman she is today. I know that I had a large influence in her raised confidence. One might even go so far to say that I actually made Mystique what she is today.   
  
They'd be wrong.  
  
No, Mystique was always strong willed and as deceptive as she was beautiful, all I did was give her a little push towards her self-acceptance. She is truly remarkable; I've never had a companion so loyal or precious to me. Magda, my wife of so long ago, was wonderful...but that marriage was nothing like what Mystique and I share. I've seen Mystique at her worst, and she's seen me way beyond rock bottom.   
  
We've seen each other suffer horrendously, and come back from it stronger.  
  
Yes, we are strong as individuals and probably even stronger when we're together. However, we are still just two people, fighting a war against the Earth's majority. Granted, we are two people with super powers and advanced knowledge, but we couldn't be everywhere at once!  
  
This is why I suggested to her that we go recruiting, at least just for that project of mine. That Senator Kelly had a big mouth, one that was going to get him into a great deal of trouble if he was not careful.   
  
I had built a machine, one that could transform a normal human into one of our own. The World Conference seemed like the perfect time and place to use it. Perhaps if they knew what it was to be a mutant they would not force oppression on us.   
  
The machine needed energy, my bio-magnetic energy, and far too much of it, I nearly died just when I was just giving it a test run. I could not die; if this idea were to fail, I had to be there afterwards to come up with another, and another and another if need be. If this idea were to succeed, I had to be there to help rebuild the world in a mutant-friendly society.  
  
We needed the girl.   
  
We had infiltrated Charles's computer files and learned of the girl who could absorb any other person's life force through touch. I did not want to harm her, she had done nothing to insult me; I did not want to kill this child. However, no war can be won without any casualties. If she was to be the only blood spilled, one girl in all the world, then so be it. One sacrifice for the good of all mutant kind.   
  
There was a small problem, though.  
  
How could I reach her? I could not leave the island or New York to go kidnapping, so we found someone to do it for us.  
  
He was a savage mutant. Standing over seven feet tall and nearing three hundred pounds, he was perfect for what we had in mind. He was what Americans would call a "thug for hire." He was paid handsomely for whatever assignment I issued him, and he obeyed without protest.   
  
There were, however, little things that I did not appreciate from him.   
  
Sabretooth, as he called himself, took what I felt to be an inappropriate interest in Mystique. Almost immediately, I was forced to keep my possessiveness and jealousy at bay under a cool exterior of indifference.   
  
Upon their first meeting, his dark, predatory eyes roved over her as if she was prey worthy of his pursuit. I was at my desk, and Mystique standing by my side. He was preoccupied with her now commonplace nude form. He stared directly at her, and she had become uncomfortable, excusing herself quickly. I may be a mutant, but I am still a man, and no man would have appreciated that outright display of disrespect!  
  
I said nothing, of course. He knew too much already, if he backed out now because I dismissed him out of jealousy, Charles could learn of our plan.   
  
That could not happen, it was too soon.  
  
He was an unsavory character, and I did not like him living on the island with us, but there was no other choice. He had to stay with us until we were able to locate the girl, and then he was to go out and fetch her. His visible interest in Mystique never waned, even after it became clear to him that she only shared my bed, and no one else's.   
  
Rather, it seemed to only fuel his fire for her.  
  
The simple fact that he did not care whether she was free or not left me very unsettled. Sabretooth was a mutant who had lived his life governed by his basic instincts: Want, take, have. If he wanted Mystique badly enough, I feared that he would take her.   
  
He almost did once.   
  
She had gone into the cavern where we kept the machine, as I had asked her to meet me there. Sabretooth had followed her inside. I consider it some divine intervention that I arrived in the cave when I did. Mystique was slowly walking up to the edge of the platform, towards the machine, and I saw Sabretooth advancing behind her. He was ready to pounce.  
  
"Sabretooth," I called out sharply. He spun around to face me, as did Mystique. She looked shocked to find him in here with her, she had been completely oblivious to his following presence. "We have a lock on the girl, she's in Canada. Find her." I commanded.  
  
He looked as if he was ready to break my neck. On one hand I hoped that he tried, I would take some pleasure in his destruction; but on the other hand, he was useful and I had need of his tracking skills. He was disappointed and irritated at my interruption of his intended attack on Mystique, but he said nothing.   
  
Neither did Mystique. She walked past me as Sabretooth left the chamber, hanging her head.   
  
I bid Sabretooth happy hunting as he left our island, searching for the girl, relieved that it was just Mystique and I again.  
  
After he left, I concentrated most of my energies on the mutating machine. I even recruited the aptly named Toad as my aide. His powers were very useful, as was his bright mind. He and I further developed my original idea; observing that the Statue of Liberty would be a good place to activate it. I must admit that I liked Toad much more than Sabretooth; he seemed to have no more interest in Mystique than that of a fellow soldier.   
  
She and I had little time for dalliance; in fact, we spent very little time together as the machine's activation drew near. She brought me Senator Kelly, and helped me to recover after I tested the machine on him. Our last days together went by too fast.   
  
We moved on to the final phase of our plan.  
  
She was to keep Charles's hall monitors (some of my own former students, what a small world!) busy while I activated the system. I was alarmed when I could not reach her on the com-link, I knew Mystique could take care of herself, but what if...no, I had a duty to perform here, this was too important to let my personal feelings get in the way!  
  
By some stroke of good fortune for them; Cyclops, Scott Summers, made a clear hit on me. He blasted me in the shoulder while I was attempting to stop Wolverine. I was weakened already, and to take a hit like that, I'm amazed that it didn't kill me.   
  
I had survived, even though Mystique had not. 


	7. Being Alone

Author's note: Mystique's POV after she recovered from being stabbed, and realized she was alone. (After X-men the movie 2000, during X2).   
  
Eric is dead. I don't know how he died, but I'm sure the X-men killed him. I looked into it, there was no body recovered from the Statue of Liberty. I'll bet he died by Scott's hands. Or eyes, if you want to be literal. Maybe he was incinerated by his optic blasts. On the other hand, maybe Ororo got him with lightening. It doesn't matter though, because he is dead.   
  
Sabretooth is dead too. I didn't see him die, but if he were still alive, he would've come looking for me and the rest of his money. He just wanted his cut; he cared nothing for Eric's vision of a world where mutants could be free from the tyranny of mankind. He's probably never done anything meaningful with his life, and now he never will.  
  
Toad is either dead or he's run off. I don't know where he would've gone, but I hope he's happy, wherever he is. Maybe he's dead, I'm not sure. I think I was too busy being stabbed in the belly to help him with his fight. I liked him more than Sabretooth, but that isn't saying much.  
  
They may not both be dead, but they are gone. I don't care about either one of them, I never did. They were helpful, but their lives hold no meaning for me. Eric was the only one I cared about, and he is gone too.   
  
******  
  
I woke up in a hospital, still in my security guard disguise. I checked my charts and learned that the Wolverine's claws had not reached my heart or lungs, they missed by an inch. In essence, it was like a bad flesh wound. I would recover, but carry the scars with me.   
  
I left the hospital a few days later, in a haze of confusion. Where was everyone? Had they survived? Did our plan work? I immediately left for the island to find out. Maybe Eric was back there waiting for my recovery, and was planning to visit soon, but he hadn't expected me to heal so quickly and leave the hospital.   
  
I stole a speedboat and reached the island in three hours, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine on my skin. No need for false pretenses out there in the middle of the ocean, I took on my natural form. When I got there, I found it to be completely empty; no one had been there in days. I checked the news reports; our plan had failed miserably.   
  
So, Eric did die. At least he went out fighting. For hours, I sat on the platform, where his machine had been, staring at my reflection in the lake. In my anger, I hit the water, blurring the image. "What do I do, Eric?" I asked out loud. I never got an answer.   
  
*************  
  
I am alone, and I feel so...abandoned.   
  
What will I do without Eric? This question haunted me for a long time. I don't have the knowledge or craftsmanship that Eric had.   
  
"But you'll always have your gift..."  
  
Eric had often told me that. My ability to become other people. I could use that to my own advantage easily enough, but how?  
  
Then it came to me: no one knew that Senator Kelly was dead! The only ones who knew what we did to him were Toad, Sabretooth, Eric and I. As far as the public knew, he was still alive and well. He was still the champion fighter against mutants. He loved to hate us, and the people loved him for loving to hate us.  
  
I hate those people. It's because of them that Eric died, Xavier was so intent on protecting their limited, boring lives that he created the X-men to stop him.  
  
If it wasn't for them, Eric would still be here.  
  
Well, if those mutant hating fools wanted a war so bad, I'd give them one!   
  
The first step to take when it came to demoralizing a group -Eric has told me this often- is to make their leader fall. To do this, I would have to wear the Senator's face for weeks, but it was worth it.   
  
Many journalists were shocked beyond belief that the loudest voice calling for mutant registration had so suddenly reversed its opinion. I used the Senator's fame and power at every opportunity to cry out for mutant rights.   
  
I hope that Eric would be proud if he saw me now.   
  
Sometimes when I slept, Eric would be in my dreams, encouraging me. It was so difficult, my- the Senator's- campaign lost a lot of financial support, but I fought on. All for Eric, who died fighting this war.   
  
*****  
  
I received a telephone call alerting me that my presence was needed at the White House- immediately. A mutant had attempted to kill President McKenna. It was a pity that the mutant- whoever it was- wasn't faster with the knife, I might have done it myself if I had more time.  
  
However, the President being alive may still have some purpose.   
  
By some odd coincidence, William Stryker was also called in. Odd, yes, but I am eternally grateful now that he was there. A tiny little remark he made, about someone they had captured on Liberty Island, was the only thing I thought about for days after meeting him.   
  
It couldn't be...it was probably just Toad...but what if...  
  
"Eric? Eric Lehnsherr?" I had asked, perhaps a little too eagerly to be ignored.  
  
"Magneto, yes." He had replied.  
  
Eric was alive, he was alive and being held captive somewhere. I had to find him, free him, so that we could be together again.  
  
The Colonel had refused my request for a visit-rather rudely, I might add- so I had no choice but to find him myself. Perhaps if he had been kinder to me, he would not have met his end the way he had.   
  
Breaking into Stryker's offices was no difficult task, but I was on a clock; Stryker's real assistant would be coming here soon. I had to work fast.   
  
I checked the folder labeled 'incarcerated', and then 'Lehnsherr, Eric'. Just seeing his picture gave me a swell of hope that I hadn't felt since the last time I saw him in person.  
  
I found a great deal of other information as well, about Xavier's school. Stryker was making plans to go after the Professor and his students. That was bad, but I had more important things to worry about. I'd bring it up to Eric when I freed him.  
  
How am I going to do that? I clicked on a folder labeled, 'correction guards'.  
  
*****  
  
Mitch Laurio was a slob. He was a pig, and he had no chance with the woman I had morphed into. The irony was that I had changed into my own human form for this mission. I felt that if I were going to help Eric, I would be the one to do it. Not one of my illusions of a Playboy playmate, or some supermodel, but me. I would be the one to save Eric, as he had saved me so many times.   
  
The transformation was quick. My indigo skin bleached itself to a fair cream shade, my own crimson hair fading into strawberry blonde, my eyes shifting color families until they were a light blue- like Eric's.   
  
I stood before the mirror for a long time, watching my image in the glass.   
  
It was a beautiful woman that stared back, but it wasn't me. She was what I would look like if I had never mutated, which made her a disguise, just like every other face I adopted.  
  
I flirted shamelessly, practically throwing myself at him. 'Eric had better appreciate this!' I had thought to myself while the slug pulled at the skirt of my dress, trying to get what I would never give him. Thank goodness, those pills took effect before I had to do anything more I would regret!  
  
He fainted, and I stuck him with a syringe filled with liquid iron. Not enough to kill him, or make him even aware of its presence, but it would be enough for Eric. I hoped. 


	8. Escape

Top of Form  
  
Bottom of Form  
  
Author's note: Magneto's PoV (again, he's just so much fun to write!) on when he was in prison (during X2)  
  
No one knows this, but when the police came to investigate the activity taking place on the Statue of Liberty, I gave up. I was still conscious even after Cyclops blasted me in the shoulder while I was already weakened from Rogue absorbing my power.   
  
I watched as Storm, Jean and Scott helped Rouge and Wolverine get down from the torch, and then into their jet. I watched them fly off into the night, and I gave up. Mystique was dead; otherwise, they would never have made it to the statue's head. They never would have made it past her, I'm sure of that. But the X-men making it as far as they did was proof that she had fallen in battle.   
  
So, I gave up. I lay there on the torch's railing, staring after the X-jet long after it had faded against the horizon. Without Mystique, there was really nothing left for me. So, I did nothing. I heard some policemen calling to each other, giving out orders and such, but it didn't matter to me. Someone had kneeled down beside me, and injected my something into my forearm. Even as my vision blurred and everything faded away, I didn't bother to fight back.   
  
A world without Mystique is hardly a world worth fighting for.   
  
*****  
  
When I finally came to, I was quite surprised-and angered- to find myself in what could only be described as a large plastic box. Everything inside of it was completely transparent; save for my own prisoner's uniform, the blankets on the bed, and the few books they allowed me. From the first guard assigned to me- a nice fellow- I learned that there was not a scrap of metal within a half mile in any direction of my cell. He had not meant to tell me mockingly (that came later, from a different guard), he had simply answered my question.   
  
I do not have energy blasts that come from my eyes; I do not have sharp claws, a shape-shifting body, or the ability to control people with my mind. Without my powers, I am what I appear to be: an old man. My next guard took advantage of that simple truth every chance he had.  
  
Mr. Mitchell Laurio appeared in place of the regular guard one day, and he greeted me with a snap of his nightstick to the back of my head. There was nothing I could do; I'm still stronger than I look, but he was more than twice my strength and half my age. He was strong, fast and vicious. He was very similar to some people who took that much pleasure in my pain, over 50 years ago.   
  
Nearly everyday he would give me a new bruise to hide from Charles. At first I tried to fight back, give whatever resistance I could, but then I realized that without her, I really had nothing to fight for...so I gave up.   
  
Charles would visit every once in a great while, and despite being the 'most powerful psychic on the planet', he was still oblivious to the fact that it was a struggle for me to breath, much less talk, for all the bruises to my stomach and chest. He did notice a change in my attitude, though.   
  
"Eric, you are slightly downhearted today." He had once remarked.  
  
"Charles, given my surroundings, can you blame me? But it's nothing for you to worry about, I'm sure you wouldn't understand." He seemed a little hurt by my dismissal of his concern, but I didn't care. It was partly his fault that I was locked in here, tortured by both the guard and my memories of freedom. He wouldn't understand anyway, he couldn't.   
  
He's never loved and lost before, and if he has, I'm sure his circumstances were much different.   
  
Mystique, did I ever even tell you how much you meant to me? Even though I never said it, did you have the slightest idea how much I cared? With all I have, I hoped you did. It was I who sent you to your death; I told you not to let the X-men stop me, no matter what the cost. Surely you knew that I was willing to let Sabretooth die for my cause; I was even willing to sacrifice Toad if need be. But not you, never you, Mystique! I would never have asked you to die for me, so why did you do it? Was it because it "felt right"?   
  
*****  
  
I would daydream about her often when I was awake, and dream of her when I was asleep, remembering when we first met. She was so troubled, hating herself. Bundled up in so many layers of clothing that it didn't even look comfortable, but why? Why would she have wanted to hide that remarkable body? Her family probably turned their backs on her, the poor girl. She grew to trust me, and I grew fond of having someone I could relate to.  
  
She was beautiful and never realized it until I told her, on our first night together.   
  
It was strange really, everyone has heard about "office romances", but I never would have dreamed that I would fall into one! It just seemed to fall into place. An accidental brush of our hands, or prolonged eye contact had created this sort of tension. Then, she broke it when she kissed me. I was surprised that she would make such an advance, but decided for once to just dive in head- or lips- first and kiss her back, hungrily. Things just progressed from there.  
  
I had never had any idea what time it was, or for how long a time I was incarcerated, but after a while, I began to grow restless. I missed her, terribly. Sometimes I would reach out in my sleep, expecting to feel her beside me. Then I would wake up, alone and trapped. It was all I could do not to scream in frustration. I have lived alone for most of my life, but I had grown used to having her with me.  
  
This behavior may have seemed familiar to the very astute Mr. Laurio, and I suppose that one day- or night- his curiosity got the better of him.  
  
"You got a Missus Magnetism out there somewhere?" he asked, feigning indifference as he delivered a novel to me.   
  
'The Once and Future King'  
  
There was no point in lying, and I was exhausted from playing the part of cold, bitter "Magneto the Master of Magnetism". I had had so little contact with another person that I was desperate for a real conversation...even if it had to be with this moron.   
  
"In a manner of speaking, yes; although, it wasn't a legal union." It was an odd answer, but the best way that I could sum up Mystique and my relationship.   
  
"Hmm. What did you just fall in love at first sight or something?"   
  
"No, no, we became more than platonic companions years after we met."   
  
"So, where is she now? How come she hasn't tried to break you out of here yet?"  
  
That question got to me. I knew she was gone, but I had yet to voice it. "She's dead now, at the Statue of Liberty."  
  
The answer seemed to satisfy him somewhat, his curiosity fed. I had given him a piece of my past, a rather meaningful one. However, his attitude towards me never softened...neither did the blows of his nightstick.  
  
*****  
  
Somewhere, near the end of my novel, Mr. Laurio had a rendezvous with a trollop. At least, I'm sure that was what the rest of the guards assumed. Locker room talk and all that. I felt him approach my cell before I heard or saw him. I was napping, and then, I felt the presence of metal. I woke up, and focused on where it was, it could be my only chance for escape.   
  
There was something different about him...I just couldn't put it into words. He was irritated at my interest, and as fools often do, he immediately became aggressive. He tried to threaten me with his oh-so-handy nightstick, but he never got the chance to use it.   
  
I'm sure he was very disappointed.   
  
I held him up, wondering how he had gotten metal past the security guards. Surely, he was not trying to help me escape, so why was he doing this? Then, I looked closer, at the evidence. On his neck, was a small purple bruise. A love bite. So, my dear Mystique had lived to help me escape. She was probably close, all the more reason to do away with Laurio as quickly as possible.   
  
"A word of advice, Mr. Laurio. Never trust a beautiful woman...especially one who is interested in you." The words were cruel, and heartless. I was completely indifferent about killing him. He was standing right in my way, he was an obstacle that needed removing. Yes, I would find Mystique and we would be reunited...right after I effectively destroyed this horrible place.  
  
Once I fully escaped the compound at which I was being held- all that damage done with just three iron marbles, thank you very much!- I saw her.  
  
Standing outside the gates, in her true blue form, waiting for me. 


	9. Reunion On The Road

I don't think that I have ever seen anything as welcoming or beautiful as Mystique looked the first time I saw her after I escaped.   
  
Once I emerged into the sunshine and fresh air, I found that I wasn't in some secret government compound. Rather, they had created a specialized prison in a mountain range, cutting right into the rock. The air was crisp with the approaching winter, and the sun seemed much brighter than I remembered. Of course, there is always a certain shock when reintroduced into nature after months of deprivation. I breathed deep, cherishing the feel of the cold air in my lungs. As I looked to the horizon, I could see a town at the base of the mountain range. Even though it was miles away, I could feel the metal there.   
  
After so much time away from my precious alloys and alkalis, I had grown hungry for them.   
  
I turned my attention to some movement I saw out of the corner of my eye. There she was, just as I had remembered. Her reflective scales had caught the sun's flare and she seemed almost illuminated; glowing like some unknown goddess. I watched her as she came to me, enjoying the confident sway of her hips. She approached me cautiously, never breaking eye contact. Her last few steps were slowed, as she looked me up and down. I was still wearing my prison uniform; I had not had any time to change. Her hand reached up to my face, and she stroked my cheek tenderly.   
  
Oh yes, my bruises, how could I have forgotten? They were still painful, and I couldn't help but flinch under her fingers. This small recoil upset her, and she pulled back her hand. Oh, how I had missed her! The feel of her body next to mine in the night, her encouragement, her very presence! I pulled her into an embrace that she fully returned.   
  
She pulled back and pointed over her shoulder, to a limousine. I don't care how she came upon it- probably stolen- but I was grateful. She led me inside, and pulled me into a long, deep kiss.   
  
It was good to be free.  
  
For a while, we just held each other, enjoying the return of the other's form. It was too early for coupling, but the comfort of her presence was just as welcome. She curled in my lap in the back of the car, wrapping her arms around my neck; I had cradled her weight and rested my chin on her crown.   
  
The simple physical contact had so much comfort and meaning behind it...it was as if the entire world and all of the problems we had to face just fell away. She had missed me as much as I had missed her. We both thought that the other was dead, how she came to find the truth I will never know.   
  
I don't mean to sound conceited when I say that I knew that it was worse for her than for me, being alone. I know that it was worse for her because she had been forced to face the world alone. Before her body began to mutate, she was every bit the normal girl. She had had a family, friends; they rejected her after it became obvious of what she was, of course (typical human stupidity). After she made it to Charles's school, she had me; I was there for her whenever she needed comfort.   
  
I, on the other hand, have been alone for most of my life...but that did not mean that I enjoyed being in isolation, everybody needs somebody sometimes, I suppose.   
  
In our reunion, she had begun to cry, the emotions became overwhelming. The fear, the anger, the mourning, the longing...in a rush, she told me of what she had done while I was incarcerated. She had become Senator Kelly, and he had reversed 'his' opinion on mutant registration. Mystique was brave, I had never really thought of it before, but to do a thing like that was very brave.   
  
She faced the mob alone, wearing the face of a betraying leader.  
  
She also told me of the information she had come across in William Stryker's offices; he had built a Cerebro chamber of his own. Ah, the plan was quickly falling into place. He had kidnapped Charles and Scott and was planning to use them in his plan. Surely, he would use Charles to rid the world of mutants...it would almost be foolish if he didn't.   
  
But where had he taken Charles, where had he built the chamber? Good questions, but we didn't have any answers.   
  
Of course, we knew who did. The same people who had separated us, the students that Charles always took so much pride in teaching: the X-men. Reluctantly, I used my powers to start the limo, and it drove down the long stretch of road before us. 


	10. Games We Lovers Play

Eric wrapped his arms around me, as I curled in his lap. He had rested his chin on the crown of my head, and for a long time we were silent; we didn't say or do anything while the limo guided itself down the road. He was taking us back to New York, where we would try to contact the X-men, who might be able to find where William Stryker took Xavier.  
  
Thus, we would all go and find Stryker, and with any luck, rip him apart.  
  
At least, that's what Eric wanted- not like he didn't have his reasons. Stryker had underestimated and humiliated him, forced him to betray his friend. We were running out of time and didn't have anything on our side.  
  
Oh, and we had to find him and stop him before he forced Charles to kill all the mutants on Earth.  
  
Just like any other day.  
  
Eric had been stroking my shoulder, slowly running his fingers up and down my arm, when suddenly, his head jerked up. He looked around the interior of the car, as if he could hear someone calling his name. He made the car stop moving, got out, and looked up to the sky.  
  
I followed him out, and did't bother to transform myself; we had stopped on a back road and were far from any kind of civilization. It was already late in the day; the sun was shining brightly, yet Eric's eyes stared straight up towards some far off storm clouds.  
  
"What do you see, Eric?" I had asked him. He kept his gaze on the sky, but smiled at my question.  
  
"I can see nothing, my dear, but it's what I felt that got my attention. Something very odd is happening up there." I am constantly amazed at his abilities. With his power, he can sense the entire planet's magnetic fields; he's connected to the world.  
  
"Ah, there it is. It seems that we won't have to go all the way back to Westchester to find our friends."  
  
I rolled my eyes at his choice of words. To him, all mutants were friends, but to me they were just people. Some you could trust with your life, others would rob you of it in a second if given the chance. But right now, my personal feelings did not matter, we had to cooperate with them if we wanted to live...but that didn't mean I had to like it.  
  
I followed his eyes, and saw what had gotten his attention. The unmistakable shape of the X-men's jet was falling from the sky, from the damage done to its hull.  
  
It was on a downward spiral.  
  
Eric held out his hand, and as I watched, the large aircraft slowed its descent, the hole quickly repairing itself. Somehow, they had been attacked and would have surely crashed if he hadn't been there at the right time. Slowly, slowly, the jet came back to earth. He guided it closer to us, until the nose was a mere few feet from our bodies. We stood right in front of them, making sure that they could see us, and that he had voluntarily saved all of their lives.  
  
"When will these people learn how to fly?" he asked mockingly. Jean Grey and Wolverine were closest to the window, and didn't seem to appreciate his little joke. Some people have no sense of humor.  
  
*****  
  
It was an adversarial setting, they did not trust us. The feeling was mutual. Curtly, Eric informed them of William Stryker's plan. He was the strong, willful monarch; I kept silent by his side, making it clear to all present that I was his warrior.  
  
It took time for some of the core members to accept such an unfortunate event had befallen them. Their precious professor, being forced to misuse his powers! Well, that's the breaks. When people are upset, they say stupid things.  
  
Storm had rudely asked Eric how Stryker had known about Cerebro. Obviously, they had assumed early on that Eric actually wanted harm to come to Xavier, they still thought of him as a madman villain.  
  
Fools, every last one of them.  
  
I wanted to attack them, or at least say something in his defense, but I did neither. Eric can fight his own battles, no matter how personal.  
  
I watched him closely; his hand was resting on the inside of his left arm, his fingers running over the stretch of skin where his prisoner tattoos laid. Then, he touched the back of his neck, where he had the scar from Stryker's injections.  
  
I wanted to cry for him, and everything he has had to suffer through; he had been taken advantage of far too many times. He was a boy, a child, when he had been labeled as nothing more than a number in Auschwitz. As a man, history had repeated itself as he was scarred by Stryker.  
  
'We'll get him, Eric.' I thought. When he answered, his voice had a dangerous edge.  
  
"I told him. William Stryker has undeniable methods of...persuasion. Effective against even a mutant as strong as Charles."  
  
He went on to explain things to them, of how Stryker will force Charles to target mutants, and of how we don't know the location of his base for operations. I almost burst into laughter when he made Wolverine appear foolish.  
  
"Once again, you think it's all about you."  
  
*****  
  
After we had discussed a plan of action, everyone settled in for the night. Eric and I planned to sleep in the limo, while the X-men and a few of their students slept in tents. I had decided to take a little walk around the campsite, survey the area, when I saw it.  
  
Wolverine and Jean, kissing.  
  
What a nice thing to do, kiss the fiancé of the leader who had only been kidnapped days before! And she was no better, her loyal, brave Scott Summers could be being tortured right now, and she had decided to make out with the new teammate. She had broken the contact, although it was obvious that it had taken her some effort.  
  
I watched as they parted, an idea forming in my head, when he approached me.  
  
"Excuse me." It was Kurt. He was blue like me, but no scales. His skin would have been smooth, but his face was covered in scars. He had yellow irises, his hair was the same color as his skin. We were similar, but I was more humanoid; he had a tail, his hands and feet were cloven.  
  
I glanced at him, said nothing.  
  
"They say you can imitate anybody? Even their voice."  
  
"Even their voice," I replied back to him in his own deep German accent.  
  
He was surprised at the accuracy, most people are. Kurt may have been a bit creeped out, but he pressed on with his questions. I wasn't surprised at his next question, even Eric had asked me about it once.  
  
"Then why not stay in disguise all the time, you know, look like everyone else?"  
  
I kept my eyes on Wolverine as he ducked into his tent, and gave Kurt the best answer, which is usually the simplest one.  
  
"Because we shouldn't have to."  
  
I left Kurt then; hoping that, if nothing else, he can appreciate what I told him. We shouldn't have to hide; we're beautiful and powerful just as we are.  
  
Smiling, I approached his tent.  
  
Jean Grey's form is similar to my own. She is a slender woman with short red hair. There are, however, subtle differences. I am taller and fuller in some areas, but the transformation was easy enough. I walked right into his tent, kissed him; he returned every one of my advances like a hungry animal.  
  
I am attracted to him, but I hate him at the same time. He hurt me, I wanted to hurt him back. This is why I took such pleasure in seducing him as Jean, and then breaking his heart with the realization that it was not really her. I would never be her, and she would never come to him, because she didn't love him.  
  
He became angry a little too late. I could tell that he was tempted to let me keep up the charade, which was the only way he could ever have her...and he knew it. Regrettably, his sense of decency won out over his sense of longing, and he ordered me to leave his tent.  
  
I walked back to the limo, with a smile on my lips. He got what he deserved. Everyone knew that if you tasted the forbidden fruit, you were going to be poisoned.  
  
When I opened the door, Eric was already inside. Stretched out in the backseat with one leg crossed over the other, he seemed to be waiting for me. I shut the door behind me as I came in and sat down beside him.  
  
Wordlessly, he poured some champagne into two fluted glasses. He handed one to me, which I gratefully took. We clinked glasses and sipped slowly.  
  
He reached out and brushed some hair out of my eye, his hand lingering on my face for a few seconds longer than usual, caressing and tender. Oh, how I had missed those hands, the nights were so lonely...I moved over and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around me, protective and caring. I kissed from his mouth down to his neck and collarbone. I could feel the vibration of his voice rumble through his throat as he made a small moan of pleasure.  
  
He and I hadn't been together in months, we were both hungry.  
  
Eric laid back and pulled me on top of him. I stopped the kisses and just laid my head down on his chest. I could hear his heart beating quickly, he wanted me...but Eric isn't the kind of man who would do anything in the backseat of a car. He's classier than that; we always conduct our intimate acts in the bedroom. Besides, it would be awkward the next morning if we got started and the X-men heard us.  
  
Best if we leave our carnal activities for when we were alone.  
  
*****  
  
The next morning, we all woke up bright and early, ready for action. Eric boarded the plane first, and I took a seat beside him. The man is very attuned to body language and behavior, and he noticed the look of subtle disgust that Wolverine threw at me, and the wink I gave in return.  
  
With a hint of jealousy in his voice, he asked me, "What was that?"  
  
I tried my hardest not to laugh as I told him what had happened between he and I the night before. He got a kick out of it, and laughed along with me. Not to be out done, he ripped into the first victim that wandered within his striking range. It just happened to be Rogue.  
  
"We love what you've done with your hair." The girl's feathers were ruffled at that comment, and she threatened to attack, but her little boyfriend put a stop to her.  
  
The ride was quiet; we really didn't have anything to talk about.  
  
The bored teenage boy-who we would become more familiar with in time- criticized Eric's helmet in a plain attempt to spark conversation.  
  
Eric indulged him; he had always been interested in the views of the young. He took the boy's lighter and asked him his 'real name', given the boy the title of a god.  
  
Were we mutants gods? I didn't think so; we were just people, but much better. We had real power and beauty. Humans had fear and prejudice. Mutants were better, and should take over-if we lived long enough.  
  
Pyro remained quiet for the rest of the flight, no doubt thinking about what Eric had told him.  
  
Once we landed, Eric entrusted me with the dangerous task of infiltrating Stryker's base, which I gladly performed.  
  
He told Wolverine he wouldn't take his chances with him, and then looked at me. I took great pride in the faith he had in me, because he knew that I would succeed in my task.  
  
Eric followed me outside and insisted we venture into the forest. "Mystique, please be careful." His eyes were pleading me not to get hurt.  
  
I probably should have said something romantic, something sweet and caring, but the memory of his shame from the night before had haunted my dreams.  
  
Even as he held me to him, I dreamt Stryker had drugged him and then forced Eric to kill me in horrible, cruel ways. I wanted to kill Stryker for what he'd done to Eric, not waste time talking.  
  
"Eric, I didn't put all the effort into freeing you just to get us all killed now. I'll be fine." I turned to walk towards the spillway of the dam, but Eric grabbed my arm and pulled me back to him.  
  
He kissed me in a way I had never felt before. "Leave Stryker for me, love. Open the doors, that's all. Stryker's mine." He had seen right through me, of course. He knows me better than anyone else, he knew what I wanted to do.  
  
I sighed, "Just yours?"  
  
"Just mine. Off you go now, to the spillway."  
  
It's very disappointing, isn't it, when someone calls off a plan that hasn't yet been carried out? I stepped out of his arms and changed into Logan. "If you insist," I sighed in my own voice.  
  
Then, as an afterthought, "Bub."  
  
I said the last part in Wolverine's voice purely for the effect of course. This mutation can be quite a lot of fun.  
  
He smiled and we went our separate ways. He back to the jet, I headed towards the spillway.  
  
Once inside, I opened the spillway door as I was supposed to, and then sat back and waited for them to arrive.  
  
Hopefully this would be the most difficult part of the mission. 


	11. Trick

Bottom of Form  
  
I watched as Eric and the X-men dispatched with the perimeter soldiers. From Stryker's office, I had a multitude of computer and television screens before me. In one, I could see the kidnapped schoolchildren from Xavier's; in another, I could see something far more entertaining.   
  
Between Eric, the real Wolverine, Jean Grey, Ororo, and the Nightcrawler; Stryker's soldiers didn't stand a chance. He had looked directly into a security camera and smiled, he knew I saw him. He also knew that I smiled back.  
  
The soldiers on the other side of the door were making some very interesting noises; Stryker had ordered them to get this door open. Was it possible they would succeed before the others got here? This question ran through my mind as I stood to meet whatever challenge faced me on the other side.   
  
The door made a grinding noise, almost as if it were being pulled and twisted. Once I heard the humming noise of Eric's power, I was relieved. The door was ripped off the hinges, revealing everyone from the jet, without so much as a scratch on their stupid leather costumes.   
  
Eric walked into the room, the first to join me. He rarely said things to me with words; his actions always spoke for his heart. He gave me a look to let me know how much he appreciated my effort to help.   
  
Through some subtle manipulation of the situation, the X-men would have to split up. I clicked on the image of the captured students; immediately, Storm and Nightcrawler went for the live bait. That left Jean and Logan to come with us to stop Xavier.   
  
Again, through some trickery, Logan saw where Stryker was heading, and he took off after them on his own. That left Jean Grey with us. She is weak in her powers; a little telekinesis wouldn't stop Eric or me when it came time for us to get her out of our way.   
  
However, we didn't even need to take her down because Scott did it for us. His optic blast separated us, and she told us to go on ahead. Eric and I were now going to be able to manipulate Xavier into killing Stryker before we rescued him. It was almost too easy.   
  
We had discarded with more of Stryker's soldiers, right outside of the chamber...we were so close.   
  
We almost made it.  
  
I have been beaten before; I have been slapped, punched, kicked, and bitten.   
  
I've been stabbed.   
  
Not one of those abuses could compare with what I went through when Xavier attacked me with his brain. I could feel his mind connect with mine, how it searched my DNA for the mutant gene, and then attack me through my own powers. It started as a blinding headache, and within seconds, it had advanced to a full body seizure. I fell to my knees in pain, clawing at my head.   
  
I saw Eric in front of me. He felt it too, but his helmet blocked out most of the pain. He was protected from Xavier's power...temporarily. Soon, the small amount of pain that he felt would escalate until it matched my own. I curled my body, trying to shield myself from the invisible threat, but it was no use; the pain came from every direction, ripping me apart!  
  
I looked down at my leg, and saw it change...without my consent. It was then that I realized Cerebro was forcing me to morph. The metal on the wall was somewhat reflective, and I could see the horrible monster that it had made me become.   
  
I had Wolverine's claws sprouting from Nightcrawler's hands; Yuriko's face with Rogue's hair; Senator Kelly's suit had appeared with my scales. Oh, God, I was hideous! The worst part was that I knew I was powerless to stop it.   
  
"Eric," I cried, even my voice had taken on a shattering tone of both man and woman, "Hurry!"   
  
He had looked back at me, and saw what was happening. He was scared and angry, but determined to overcome this for me, for himself, for all mutant-kind. He wouldn't let Stryker win, not this way or any other. I could feel myself get closer to the edge of death. Very soon, it would be all over.   
  
My vision swam until everything was blurry. Then it went dark.   
  
'Goodbye Eric. We tried...'  
  
Images from my past came back to me, my life flashing before my eyes.   
  
It was like watching a slide show of my past. I saw my mother. She looked like me, with blonde hair and blue eyes. She sat on the couch, allowing the town drunk to grope her right in front of me when I was little. Was that fat, drunken slob my father? How many times had I run away from that house? She hated me even before I mutated. My "lifelong friends" that said we would be together forever rejecting me after they saw the horrible thing that I had become. If they could see me now...The street gangs that I had hid from for months; hearing of the Xavier school.   
  
Eric.  
  
His face came into my vision. He's like a fallen archangel: his face is handsome, but troubled. His powers over the most primal forces has made him as great as he is terrible. I watched his mouth form words, but I could hear nothing.   
  
Slowly, I began to hear sounds that grew in volume. The sounds formed into words. His words; they cut through the haze that had covered my mind like sunshine in a rainstorm.   
  
"Mystique?" he asked gently. My eyes opened, but it hurt to take in the light. I realized that I was on the floor, and he was gripping my shoulders, holding me up. My body felt like it was liquid on the inside, and my mind was a mess. It no longer hurt, but it was too difficult to focus or pay much attention to my circumstances. For a while, I couldn't tell where I was or why I was there.  
  
Eric breached the chamber door and went inside, leaving me to collect myself. I heard him inside, talking to the Professor. I sat on the floor for a few moments, making sure that all of my parts still fit together properly, and I was satisfied that I'd be fine. I shook my head, waking my brain up, and heard him say something about rules before I stood up and looked inside. He had risen to the center of the room and rearranged the tiles that made up the Cerebro globe.   
  
He looked to me from where he hovered, and I understood immediately.  
  
I entered the Cerebro chamber, and by my third step, I was William Stryker.   
  
"There's been a change of plans..."  
  
In doing this, Eric would lose Charles forever. I know it pained him. Before, he was willing to sacrifice Rogue, now he was willing to sacrifice his oldest and most cherished friendship. Charles knew that Eric was willing to do whatever it took to win the war, but I'm sure he never expected this level of betrayal.  
  
Deep down, I don't think Eric did either.   
  
He closed the doors behind himself, and sighed. "It didn't have to come to this...but now it has." That was all he said by way of explanation. He felt no remorse for the humans who would die, and neither did I. No, the only source of his pain was the knowledge that he and Xavier's friendship would die along with the rest of the population.   
  
He led me out of the dam, and we headed towards a helicopter pad.   
  
The walk to the helicopter was brisk; neither on of us liked the cold weather very much. Someone had caught up to the real William Stryker before us, and done the liberty of chaining him to the front wheel. Eric smiled dangerously as he saw him. No doubt he was realizing that everything that had happened today- my near death experience, the very real death of Eric and Charles's friendship- was all Stryker's fault.   
  
I let Eric handle the situation himself. He and Mr. Stryker had unfinished business to attend to.   
  
While I began the start-up sequence for the chopper, I noticed someone in the woods watching us. It was that boy Eric had talked to on the X-jet. What was he doing all the way out here? Why wasn't he back on the plane with Rogue and her boyfriend?   
  
Eric looked at him intently, and the boy returned the level stare without a blink. For a long moment, neither one of them moved. Then, Eric opened the door with his power. It was an unspoken invitation, which the boy gladly took. He came across the snow, flicking his lighter.   
  
Pyro was a welcome addition to our family. 


	12. Come With Us If You Want To Live

Mystique wasted no time in flying us out of the valley below Alkali Lake, for which I am very thankful. No sooner than we cleared the treetops of a foothill, the dam burst; billions of gallons of freezing water flooded the entire valley in seconds.   
  
Below us, something very unusual was happening.  
  
There, between the flood and the jet, was Jean. I could see her, parting the water and lifting the X-jet, wreathed in flame. This was a most powerful display; her powers were never very impressive, she could hardly lift her own weight under normal circumstances, and here she was holding back the force of a flood and lifting an airplane!   
  
The lake had a high metal content in the water, hence the name. I could have held the water at bay, and let Jean rejoin her family, but before I could offer my help to her, she let go. She disappeared under the torrential waters instantly, her flames extinguished. We watched the water, unbelieving. Why had she let the water take her?   
  
Perhaps the effort was too much for her; she had used so much power to save her fiancé and her friends, she didn't have enough left to save herself.   
  
Perhaps, just perhaps, she was taking the easy way out. Mystique said that she saw Jean and Logan kissing. Maybe this way Jean would not have to deal with the heartache of choosing Scott or the Wolverine. There are a number of reasons why she let the wave take her, but I wasn't interested in playing guessing games all night. Neither were the X-men, it seems.   
  
No sooner than she disappeared, they soared off.   
  
I took one last glance at the icy waters below before we did the same. Mystique took the control yoke, and I sat in back with the aptly named Pyro.  
  
I leaned back in my chair and studied him.  
  
He was a young man, perhaps nineteen at the oldest, but like me, he had seen and experienced things that made him older on the inside. What happened at the lake being the least of which. His hair was dark brown, a little on the longer side, but it seemed to suit his rebellious nature. He was a Caucasian, like I am now and like Mystique once was. His eyes were a dark hazel; they shined with adventure and strangely, an eagerness to please. He had a lean body, but physically, I am sure he was strong.   
  
He had accepted my invitation, but why? Did he merely see a way to safety, or did he want to be a part of something?   
  
Time would tell.   
  
The boy seemed distracted as he stared off into space, but he knew I was looking at him. Truth be told, I was curious. What kind of life had he led before Charles reached him? What he planned to do with his future?  
  
Without looking at me, he asked, "Are you going to kill me?"  
  
It was the same question that Rogue had asked me on the boat. She was a reluctant sacrifice, a last resort. I had not wanted to hurt her anymore than I wanted to hurt Mystique. Certainly I did not want to hurt him, is that what Cyclops and Storm told their students? Big, bad Magneto will get you if you misuse your powers?   
  
Typical.  
  
"No, of course not. What makes you think that I would?" the boy seemed surprised at my answer, as if he had expected an emphatic 'yes'.  
  
He closed his eyes and let out a breath he had been holding in. He was a troubled young man, and at the moment I did not feel like adding to his stress.   
  
"Would you like us to take you back to the school?" I asked quietly. He opened his eyes, and furrowed his brow.  
  
"No." now it was my turn to be surprised.   
  
"Why not? That's where your friends will be heading, don't you want to meet up with them again?"   
  
Pyro took a minute to collect his thoughts before answering. "They...can't understand me. They hate me now for what I did at Bobby's house, if I went back to the school the teachers would label me as a loose canon. I don't want to go back if they'll just be suspicious of me."  
  
I nodded. "I understand. Mystique and I made a similar choice, years ago, whether or not to stay at the school. Some may not think it was a wise decision, but I wouldn't have it any other way."   
  
Pyro then asked me the question that he had been turning over in his mind since our short conversation on the jet. "Can I stay?" His voice was nervous, he expected rejection, but I would not reject a young fellow mutant who needed help. He would not be welcomed back at the school, thus he had nowhere else to go...except to me.  
  
"If it suits you, then you can stay." I replied.   
  
"Cool, whatever." He tried to keep his face indifferent, almost bored. The boy's eyes betrayed him, he was happy to be a part of our group. I glanced up at Mystique and saw her smile.   
  
*****  
  
Without stopping the flight, Mystique brought us all the way back to the island. It stood out proudly from the crashing waves, just as I had remembered it. She gracefully set the helicopter down, and cut the engine.   
  
John-Pyro- was the first out the door. He started walking around the grounds, exploring his new home. I smiled slightly at his childlike curiosity, there was something almost heart warming about having him here with us.   
  
Mystique apparently felt the same way as she sidled up to me. Her hand slipped into mine, interlacing our fingers.   
  
"I'm glad you're back, Eric." She said quietly as she watched Pyro look out over the ocean.  
  
"So am I, my dear Mystique." I replied as I kissed her knuckles. 


	13. It's Bliss With You

John took to wandering our small island with much interest. I cannot help but suspect that, despite the evidence that the students could protect themselves, they were restricted in their explorations.  
  
Of course, they were free to go all over the campus, but they were to awaken at a certain time, take classes for most of the day, and then there was 'lights out' at strictly 10:00 p.m. In addition, they had to get advance permission to leave the school.  
  
John is a free spirit, and revels in the lax schedule we keep here. No strict rules, no power limitations and no actual policies other than those of common sense, with which he was gifted. For example, when my bedroom door is closed, he has sense enough to stay away.  
  
Although, whether that is out of common sense or embarrassment, I cannot tell.  
  
I politely refused Mystique's advance in the back of the limousine for fear of awkwardness the next morning and for the degradation to the act itself. I'm sure that it has to do with my age; I am from another generation than she, I do not wish to sully her in the backseat of a car. Even if it is a limousine and we had just drank imported champagne, it was still less than what she deserved.  
  
That was then, this was now. With Pyro out and about, we were finally alone. She had kept everything the same as when I had left it for the most part. My room, she had not entered since the last time...  
  
My room is relatively large, yet it contains only a few items of furniture. A dresser, a small desk with a chair and computer, two nightstands, and a bed.  
  
My bed. The one in prison was like comparing a rowboat to the Titanic. My sheets were pure white satin, my pillows stuffed with goose down, my royal blue comforter warm and inviting. The one in prison was simple, almost Spartan. I respect the idea of having few possessions leading to a clearer mind, but I have never tried it myself, I prefer the finer things in life.  
  
Haven't I earned them?  
  
I laid back on the mattress, enjoying the softness. I closed my eyes in relaxation, and when I opened them, a face both beautiful and haunting was above me.  
  
I smiled at her.  
  
She smiled back.  
  
I felt the bed shift slightly with the new weight as she sat down beside me. I rolled onto my side and propped myself up on an elbow.  
  
"How long was I gone?" I asked. The guards had never been helpful in allowing me to gain such knowledge: the time of day, day of the week, or the month for that matter.  
  
She looked down to me, her eyes narrowing in concentration. "About six months."  
  
I nodded. "Thank you, Mystique. I know that you certainly had to go through some trouble to help me. If you let me, I'll spend the rest of the night repaying that debt."  
  
A laughing twinkle flicked across her eyes. Without a word, for she was never big on talking, she leaned over.  
  
The sensation of her lips pressed to mine is forever welcome. She leaned down and only brushed them against my own, then she pulled away, sitting up.  
  
I followed her, sitting up on the bed so that I could face her. I slipped one arm around her waist and pulled her closer to me.  
  
I am but a man, and my desire was quickly overcoming me. Six months was far too long a time to be in near constant isolation, the only company allowed to you being a smug telepath and a violent cell guard. I claimed her mouth in a near desperate kiss, one she eagerly returned. Her hands wrapped around my neck, holding me in place so that she could more easily pleasure my lips. I gently laid her down beneath me as we continued the lip lock.  
  
*****  
  
Eric likes to please me; as a lover, he is giving, gentle and ardent but he can also be strong and amazingly passionate. If any of his enemies bother to think of he and I in any sexual context, I'm sure they assume the very worst: I being a submissive love slave and little else, my only reason for continued existence being his lechery.  
  
He probably has it worse than I; he is assumed a demanding man, rough, and no doubt a rapist. Nothing could be farther from the truth. He is the exact opposite.  
  
As we kissed, he laid me down beneath him on the bed. He hovered over me, kissing a trail down to my neck and collarbone. He caressed me with his hands.  
  
My face, my neck, my breasts, my stomach, my backside, my thighs. I sighed against him with every touch and it only encouraged him.  
  
He was kissing his way back up my body, but I felt him stop.  
  
He had paused on my abdomen, right below my breasts. I could feel his mouth running over the three scars left over from my fight with the Wolverine. He was inspecting them with his lips.  
  
He stopped again, and looked up at me. His eyes were disbelieving and wide. He looked down at them, running his fingertips over the thin lines of raised skin. He looked back at me, he was understanding where I had received them.  
  
"It's nothing." I said hoarsely as I pulled his lips to mine. *********^^^^^^^*********  
  
Mystique's quiet moans of pleasure are music to my ears, does she know of the power her voice holds over me? Had we been normal humans, our relationship would have been controversial and most likely non-existent. However, the cosmic scales had tipped in my favor, delivering her to me.  
  
There is an angel under the outer demon.  
  
Warm and supple, comforting my longing heart and pleasuring my lonely flesh.  
  
I love her, and I have to tell her that soon, before we are separated again.  
  
In the night, we joined together, body and spirit.  
  
Some time later, when our passions were sated, I held her in my arms. Running my fingers over her scars, I thought about all that has happened over the years, our failures and triumphs. The allies we had lost, and the newest we had gained.  
  
I can see so much of myself in John, and I am glad that we set him free.  
  
I saw it on the X-men's jet, the way he looked at me when I told him what he was.  
  
"You are a god among insects..."  
  
He pretended to be bored, disinterested in that way teenagers have, but I saw it. A tiny flicker of pride that someone like me saw his potential danger and power. He made the right choice.  
  
I kissed the top of Mystique's forehead and slipped from her embrace. She was tired, so I let her sleep.  
  
After a quick shower and change of clothes, I sought after Pyro. 


	14. Dinner and Loyalty

It seems that Pyro could take the hint that Eric and Mystique wanted to be alone, so he decided to familiarize himself with his new home. He had to admit it was pretty cool, the architecture blended with the natural environment and that Magneto, the 'bad guy', had his own island headquarters. It was like something out of a comic book!   
  
The island itself was a little rugged, but in a cool way.  
  
Two or three steps could be the only distance that separated the forest floor from the interior floor of the shelter. Forest covered much of the island surface, tall pines made the home for many small birds. There was a large rock face that came up from the ocean, making for a long fall down to the water below. He discovered to his delight that there was even a small strip of beach on the island that would be prime for sunbathing come summertime.   
  
'Maybe it won't be so bad with them' he had thought to himself as he wandered the trails of the forest, exploring the small wilderness.   
  
Despite the fact that they were wanted criminals, and he assumed that he was now as well, he knew that they had reasons-good ones- for everything they did. True, Magneto had almost killed Rogue to power the machine, but only to change the world leaders into mutants in the hope that they would drop their support of the Mutant Registration Act. He only wanted to save them, his people. Rogue had been a last resort, a reluctant sacrifice. Magneto- despite everything Xavier and the X-men had warned him about- didn't seem like some deranged murderer. Nor Mystique as his sadistic girlfriend. Rather, they seemed in control, rational, and willing to accept consequences for what they have done.   
  
To an extent.  
  
Mystique had helped Magneto break out of jail, and he had destroyed the compound he was being held in. Pyro couldn't blame him, though. He hated being contained too. Maybe that was why he went a little overboard back at Bobby's house. Whatever, it wasn't like anyone was seriously hurt, and they deserved it anyway, shooting Logan in the head!  
  
They were lucky that Rogue had grabbed him when she did.   
  
He stopped his roaming to take a seat on a boulder that rested close to the rock face. The ocean stretched on for miles in front of him, into a clean horizon until the starry night sky and the water touched each other. It was a beautiful sight, and he relaxed, simply enjoying the view.   
  
He sat for a while, tossing pebbles into the ocean below him mostly to pass the time. Boredom was closing in. At least Magneto and Mystique were being entertained! He threw the last stone into the tumultuous waters so far below him, and sighed.   
  
"Restless, John?" asked a voice from behind him.   
  
He spun around, searching for the source. He knew it was Magneto who spoke, but he couldn't see anything, the island was way too dark. He pulled out his lighter and ignited a flame. He grasped the flame in his hand and forced it to become larger and brighter, illuminating the area around him like a torch.  
  
Magneto stood a few feet in front of him, between two large pine trees. He had changed into a charcoal sweater and a pair of black pants, but he wore the same amused expression John remembered from the jet.   
  
"A little, yeah. But your island is pretty cool. Did you build it?" he asked.  
  
Magneto smiled a little at the question. "Yes, years ago. Mystique and I, we needed a place to live. An island seemed like to most logical choice."  
  
John's eyebrows shot up and he asked, "You ever hear of an apartment?"  
  
Magneto moved forward, "Where's the challenge? Anyone can just rent an apartment or buy a house, but it takes a certain level of character to purchase a piece of land and then mold it to fit his or her own needs. I'm glad to know that you like what we've done with the place. This means that I will not have to spend much energy suiting it to your tastes."  
  
John furrowed his brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Well, you're staying here with us aren't you? That makes this your home; the island is partly yours now, and it pleases me that I will not have to remodel, save for constructing a bedroom for you."  
  
John was shocked by what he had just said. This was his new home. The island was his. He couldn't believe what he had just been told any more than he could believe who told him. Imagine that, John Allerdyce rooming with two of the most dangerous mutant criminals on the world.   
  
Magneto turned away from John and started back through the forest in the direction from where he came.   
  
"I imagine that you're hungry, if you want something to eat, follow me."  
  
It was somewhat of a command, but it didn't bother Pyro. Magneto had praised him for what he was rather than order him to hide his power, he had saved his life, and just now opened his home to him. Pyro liked him, for more than just his generosity.   
  
He caught up to Magneto and followed him through the woods back into the interior area. Magneto led him through the earth and metal tunnels to a room that resembled a kitchen. Like most of the inner parts of the island, the walls were made of rock and metal, the floors made of shiny metallic tiles. It didn't exactly scream 'comfort' like all of the kitchens on television.   
  
Nevertheless, it was a kitchen with lots of food, which he could not complain about. He hadn't eaten anything substantial since dinner the night of the attack on the mansion; after that he had been given a few protein bars by Storm on the X-jet, but it hadn't been much help for a teenage boy's appetite.   
  
Magneto was a surprisingly fantastic cook. Sure, cheeseburgers aren't so difficult to make, but after hours of having an empty stomach, it was like eating a meat patty from heaven.   
  
Magneto sat down at the table across from him, enjoying his own dinner with as much appreciation. Prison food must be as bad as he'd heard.   
  
That last thought stuck with him. Magneto had been in prison for a long, long time. He saw the fading bruises on Magneto's face, and was caught staring.  
  
"If you have something on your mind, you shouldn't hesitate to ask."  
  
"Um...nothing important, I was just wondering about your bruises."  
  
"Oh, nothing to be overly concerned about, just some souvenirs from incarceration."  
  
"Did another prisoner deck you in the yard or something?" John asked jokingly.  
  
Magneto's eyebrows furrowed together. He had been studying John's behavior since they had sat down to eat. The young man was curious and witty, which amused him. Eric decided to tell him a little more than he would have usually, just to gauge his reaction.  
  
"Actually, I had no contact with any other prisoners. The only daily contact I had was with my guards. That particular guard who gave me these and a few other marks met with a very unpleasant end at my hands."   
  
Magneto kept his gaze on John, wondering if the boy would flee in fear upon learning that the man before him could be so violent with the right motivation. He had to admit that he was impressed that Pyro didn't shy away. In fact, the boy pressed him further.  
  
"How did you do it?" Whether he meant the escape or revenge against the guard, Eric couldn't decide, and so he explained both.  
  
"Well, with Mystique's ability, she was able to get very...friendly with Mr. Laurio- the guard- when he wasn't working. Somehow, she managed to inject some liquid iron into his bloodstream. I can sense metal when it's close, so naturally, I felt it when he came into my cell. The only problem was how to get the metal free from him. To put it frankly, I removed every particle from his body by sucking it out of his blood. He was a mess by the time I got out the door."  
  
Pyro wasn't too shocked at hearing this, considering the source. 'This is the guy who pulled guns on the entire NYPD, after all!' he reminded himself.   
  
"So, Mystique seems...nice, I guess. You guys are...together, right?"  
  
Eric smiled. "Is that the consensus at the school?"  
  
The young man before him shrugged, "I guess so. Bobby doesn't think so, some of the other kids do think so...Rogue knows for sure since she absorbed your memories and whatever, but she won't tell us anything."  
  
Eric grinned at the childish gossip of the school. 'Some things never change.' He thought.   
  
"I suppose it would be better to clear the air. If you must know, yes, we are 'together' as you said. In every sense of the word."  
  
"Does that mean you're married?"  
  
"Oh, John, please! What church in the world would wed us? Of course we aren't married."  
  
John nodded. "Yeah, gotcha. My parents were never married, they kinda never moved past their on again off again relationship phase."  
  
"How did you fit into that?" Eric asked.  
  
"Well, they'd ship me back and forth every couple months. But, after they found out about my being a mutant...it was like they never wanted their turn to take me. I didn't want to stay where I wasn't wanted, so I left."  
  
Eric nodded. It happened all the time, it had happened to his dear Mystique. Parents often disowned their children upon learning of their mutations. He himself had never known what it was like; to have a child grow up and then find they were a mutant.   
  
His daughter Anya had not seen five years old, he would never know if she carried the X-gene, the mutant factor; but if she had, he couldn't imagine loving her any less because of it.  
  
He smiled sadly at the young Pyro, "You are not alone. Many of our kind have been abandoned, but have no fear. You are welcome here, as long as you remain loyal."   
  
John swallowed. When Magneto spoke to him, it felt like a part of him came alive. Magneto made him feel like he could be better than he was, as if he was powerful, like he meant something and wasn't just the unwanted accident between two irresponsible 20 year olds.   
  
Quietly, he declared more to himself than Magneto, "I will be." 


	15. Hopes and Enemies

Author's Note: ok, the last chapter and this one are really more about Pyro and how he's adjusting to life on the 'dark side', but I figure that since he's a part of their lives now, he deserves a little showcasing.   
  
John had come to the Brotherhood with only the clothes on his back, and nothing else. Save for his signature lighter, of course. So naturally, it was quickly decided that he was to be accompanied by Eric and Mystique on a trip to New York for shopping. The boy was in need of many things: clothes, shoes, linens for his newly constructed bedroom, and other necessities. Eric could easily afford all of it, and was happy to provide anything his new apprentice might desire. They left the island and booked a rather lavish hotel suite for the weekend visit.   
  
Their first day in the city, Eric and Mystique- in the guise of a middle-aged socialite- followed behind Pyro at a distance; he needed his space, after all, best if they didn't smother him with their presence.  
  
It suited both parties well enough; John got to window-shop by himself for a few blocks while Eric and Mystique could keep an eye on him and at the same time catch the sights.   
  
He glanced over his shoulder and saw them about thirty feet back, strolling down the sidewalk. Eric had Mystique on his arm like in those old TV shows when everyone had manners and respect. John smiled back at them and then returned his attention to the designer stores. He wasn't really a Versace kinda guy, so he kept moving.   
  
Several city blocks and stores later, John had just about everything he could possibly need. He had clothes and shoes, linens and pillows for his bedroom, music and movies to keep him entertained. Far too much for them to carry, the packages were to be delivered to their hotel suite before they returned to the island.   
  
Quite exhausted from roaming the city all afternoon, the small group returned to the hotel to seek rest.   
  
*****  
  
Late in the night, Mystique woke up to find that she was alone in the bed. The sheets were cold where Eric had been, which made her nervous. She quickly got up and went downstairs to look for him.   
  
She shouldn't have been worried; with his power, he is one of the strongest and most powerful mutants on Earth. However, he had human enemies who would have loved to see him dead. She crept downstairs, looking for any sign of danger. John was asleep on the other bed. She watched him for a moment, the steady rise and fall of his chest under the blanket satisfying her question as to whether or not he was safe. A small movement at her side caught her eye.  
  
Eric staring out the window. She came behind him and looked over his shoulder, at the city below. New York never slept; traffic on both the streets and sidewalks bustled about, crowding everyone. Couples walked quickly in hand and hand, mothers and fathers carried their children, car horns could be heard from the street even up to their floor.   
  
That was what Mystique saw, but Eric saw other things. He saw the hate, the prejudice, the fear, the jealousy and rage. He also saw the potential, the possibilities that awaited them, after mutants reigned supreme.   
  
"Look at them down there, Mystique. They don't know us but they hate us already. Someday, someday soon, it will be our turn to be free of fear. Charles has often searched my mind and heart for hope, and I do have some left."  
  
He turned to face her, and jutted his chin in the general direction behind her, where young Pyro was sleeping. "I have hope for him. I may not live to see the day when mutants are safe, but I know he will. He may even be the one to lead us to it."  
  
Mystique moved forward. Magneto had returned his attention to the view, his back facing her. She leaned her chin on his shoulder, wrapping her arm around his chest and placing her hand over his heart. She felt the strong muscle's beat increase slightly; he covered her hand with his own.  
  
"It could be our world, Mystique. Someday, you could walk down the street, in your natural form. I'll fight for you to be able to do so." He kissed her palm, and they returned to their bed, getting sleep.   
  
*****^^^^^*****  
  
John left the hotel suite, and decided to go for an early morning walk through Central Park. He had heard what Eric said about him the night before. He had hope for him, he thought that maybe...maybe, Pyro could be the hero that mutants needed.   
  
It made him somewhat uncomfortable, for someone who barely knew him to have that much faith in him. Yet, a large part of him felt honored. Pyro knew that Magneto was a great man, and great men do not usually put so much faith into rebels who run away from home.   
  
John had been thought of as a class clown and lazy student by Scott. John had been thought of as a nuisance and potentially dangerous by Xavier. Now John is thought of as a beacon of hope for the whole mutant race by Magneto. He believed in him. The feeling was almost alien. No one had really believed in him since his biological parents, but that had been some years ago.   
  
John had to admit, he was a little scared. He wasn't scared to die for what he believed in, or any of the challenges that he would have to face. He was mostly afraid of disappointing Eric.  
  
Eric his new personal hero. Eric who had saved him from hypothermia and drowning. Eric who had given him a home and spent most of the day buying him new things. He didn't want to hurt him. If he did, it would just prove everyone else right, that he was a show-off and an all around failure. He couldn't let that happen.   
  
The park was beautiful that morning; the sunshine, the trees, the flowers. He had wandered over to a park bench and took a seat.   
  
The world seemed clear now that he was rid of distractions like irritated teachers and nagging friends. Is this what true freedom felt like?  
  
"Hey, gimme your wallet." Demanded a voice from behind him.  
  
He spun around to face the voice and was instantly revolted. The man behind him looked like road kill run over twice. His clothes were ripped and filthy, his face was covered with sores and dirt. His hair was stringy and matted and many of his teeth were missing. The sad part was that he didn't look like he had even hit forty yet. The way he kept twitching and shaking alerted John like a beacon: drug addict!  
  
"Go away." John snapped back in an equally commanding tone.  
  
The order angered the addict, and he pulled a knife on him. His own anger mounting, John got a nasty idea in his head.   
  
"All right, all right, man, chill." He reached into his shirt pocket, his fingers wrapping around the small metal object there.  
  
Slowly, he pulled out his lighter. The addict was confused, and then got even more angry when he saw that it wasn't money.   
  
John flicked it open, a tiny flame rising into the air.  
  
"What the fu-" the addict started asking as the flame grew larger and then flew at him.   
  
John used his power to make the flames fly after the man, who was now bolting through the park as fast as his legs could take him. The fiery streamer dissipated after John released his concentration. He smiled to himself and walked back towards the hotel.   
  
*****^^^^^*****  
  
Eric and Mystique were at the breakfast table when John let himself in.   
  
"Hey guys, what's up?" he asked casually. Mystique said nothing, but Eric turned to him.   
  
"Nothing out of the ordinary, Pyro. However, I'm afraid that we will have to cut our little trip short. It seems that some rather dangerous enemies of mine know that we are somewhere in the city."  
  
"Enemies? Who are they? It's not the X-men is it?"   
  
Eric sat back in his chair and sighed, there was so much to tell Pyro.  
  
"No, the X-men and I have a sort of silent understanding that we do not interact unless absolutely necessary. They wouldn't bother us even if they were in the suite next door...so long as we weren't doing anything that would endanger civilians. No, the enemy of which I speak is a human based group that wish to exterminate mutants, starting with the strongest ones and then trickling down to the others."  
  
Pyro nodded his understanding. "And you're a prime target because of your power?"  
  
Eric shrugged. "Price I pay for greatness. Don't be too alarmed, John. We are not afraid of them, we just wish to lead them away from the city so as not to endanger anyone else. At best, they are unprepared and disorganized; if they make a move, it will be their funeral, you understand?"  
  
John nodded. "Yeah, I guess."  
  
Pyro's packages had arrived while he was in the park, so there was really no reason for them to stay in the city anyway. Eric and he loaded everything into the chopper as Mystique began the start-up sequence.   
  
Pyro was somewhat curious about this new enemy, and he would learn all about them soon enough. 


	16. Beautiful Demon

Top of Form  
  
Bottom of Form  
  
I watched as Mystique gingerly stepped into the pool, the water enveloping her form. Her midnight skin camouflaged with the dark water, she disappeared from my sight immediately after she went under the surface.   
  
Mystique knew that I had been watching her with some appreciation as she slipped into the pool, she also knew that I would be waiting for her once she got out.  
  
This watery grotto once housed the machine I was imprisoned for using; now, however, it is simply what it had become in my absence. Perhaps for her own peace of mind, Mystique had used it as a bathing lagoon, almost like a personal swimming pool...only it was salt water and in a cave.  
  
She was underneath the surface for a few seconds before her head bobbed back into sight. Her eyes shone light back to me like a cat's; the twin yellow dots were all I could see in the dim cave, the swishing of water all that I could hear.   
  
As languidly as she had descended into the water, now was she emerging fully to the surface. The water beaded off her lean body and dripped onto the steel floor beneath her feet. She did not move as I approached her, bearing a towel.   
  
I wrapped it around her shoulders as she stared up at me. Such a beautiful creature she is; often I feel that I do not deserve her.  
  
She stood up to kiss me on the mouth, and in doing so, she made me begin to burn for her.   
  
I pressed my forehead to hers, and grasped her hands in mine. The towel dropped to the floor with a soft ruffling. "Mystique, I..." I started to say, but she silenced me with another kiss.   
  
My hands found her waist as they had so many times before, as she held my shoulders.  
  
"Uh, Magneto? Mystique?"   
  
Instantly we pulled apart, backing several feet away in a desperate attempt to make it appear as if nothing had happened.   
  
"Hello? Where are you guys?"   
  
It was then that we realized that it was Pyro, on the intercom speaker. This meant that he was probably in my office, not in the cavern with us. He had not seen anything that would have embarrassed him; although he might have, had he entered a few minutes later.  
  
Mystique looked at me, and breathed a huge sigh of relief. I went to the speaker on the wall and pressed the 'talk' button.  
  
"Yes, Pyro, we're here. What's the matter?"  
  
"Well, nothing yet, but there's a gathering going on that I think you should know about."  
  
I glanced back at my mistress, "Perhaps we should join him?"   
  
She only shrugged and silently followed me out. If she was as disappointed as I was by our potential tryst being cut short, she never said so.  
  
***^^^***  
  
Pyro had not lied, I did indeed take interest in the gathering. However, I think that 'gathering' would have been too small a word to describe what was happening before my eyes on the television screen.   
  
It looked as if well over a million people had gathered in America's capitol to protest about mutants. The protests were a frequent occurrence, but they had never been so large in number before.  
  
"The reporters have been saying that those people plan to stay there in Washington until someone solves the problem." Pyro had informed us. He wasn't extremely angered by this, but he was also somewhat upset. He had been rejected by his parents like Mystique had just for being one of us.  
  
Mystique's eyes were fiery with the unfairness of it all. "Eric, we have to do something."  
  
I agreed. The protesters weren't my main concern; my focus was on the men who were leading the rally.   
  
*****^^^^^*****  
  
We left the island shortly after we saw the news report. So many blind sheep following their leaders, who obviously knew nothing of what we are.   
  
'Mutants are dangerous and untrustworthy! How can we feel safe when we know that they are out there, among us, biding their time for attack? I refuse to be a victim of a mutie!'   
  
One of the leaders expressed these sentiments without apology, he wanted us dead or deported.   
  
I rolled my eyes and snorted at his arrogance. What a fool!  
  
Once we arrived in Washington, the city was crammed full of people demanding that the government somehow put a stop to mutants.  
  
As if it could. No one can stop a strand of DNA from mutating.   
  
"Mystique, perhaps you could find out where they are receiving their financial aid and information?" Eric had asked.   
  
He presented it as a question, not a command.  
  
I looked back at him from our hotel bed. He had changed into a suit and tie. For a moment, I forgot who and what he was to me, and saw that he looked exactly like the rest of humanity.   
  
As did Pyro. They could walk into a room and no one would take notice; but if I were to even pass by a window right now in my natural form with the raging protesters below, I could be killed.   
  
I looked at my hands before me. They were dark sapphire blue, and covered with ridges and reflective scales. So was my chest and legs. My eyes were yellow and my hair was too vibrant a shade of red to be human.   
  
I can be anyone else in the world, but I can never be myself.  
  
I am not a monster. I am not a demon. I am beautiful.   
  
Eric has told me this many times.  
  
However, in times like these, it can be hard to believe that.  
  
"Sure Eric. I'll get whatever we need." 


	17. City Meetings

We rode the elevator down to the lobby, and then went into the street. There were several groups of protesters milling about in front of our hotel, most likely waiting until the speeches began again by their leaders.  
  
I wanted to gain some kind of understanding of the people here, but I thought that this might have been more Pyro's arena. He would join in with one of the groups, acting as a comrade, and try to learn as much as he could. He is streetwise; I doubted that he would have any trouble.  
  
We all knew that they were here to demand the government find a solution to the 'mutant problem'. I didn't want to hear their reasons for doing so; I only wished to know their methods, to figure out how they think the problem can be solved.  
  
"Alright, Pyro, meet us back at the hotel room in one hour. Hopefully by then, we'll all have plenty to share."  
  
The young man nodded and took off on his own, towards a group of people. I looked on as he began conversing with some young ladies about his age, already he was learning of their intentions.   
  
While he was getting the public opinion, Mystique and I were to infiltrate the building occupied by leaders of the rally. With our abilities, this task should be uncomplicated. However, as a rule, we must expect the unexpected.   
  
I looked at Mystique as we walked towards the main structure. She had transformed into a rather fetching brunette woman, but she looked positively dismal.   
  
There was no twinkle to her eyes, no smile playing on her lips.  
  
When I saw a homemade sign being waved about, I understood why.  
  
The sign was decorated with a crude drawing of a mutant. It was a male, with bright yellow skin, fully black eyes and green spikes protruding from his head.   
  
Right below his clawed feet, it could be read, 'Mutants: Affront to God'  
  
I took her hand in mine, offering what small measure of comfort I could; but she remained melancholy. It both angered and saddened me that these people were so hateful.   
  
"We'll make them see the truth." I told her. She nodded, but avoided my eyes and did not smile. I didn't expect her to suddenly brighten up, but I had wished to make her feel better...if only a little.   
  
We were right outside the building and surveyed the structure. Two armed security guards were in the front, blocking anyone from entering the doors. Had the street not been so crowded, it would have been easy to discard with them.   
  
However, when all else fails, fresh tactics must be used.  
  
The idea occurred to me that if we were to sneak around to the back, I would have been able to fly up to the roof. Bringing Mystique along with me would have been no real trouble, I imagine, but I have never flown with a partner before.   
  
Incidentally, I never got a chance to test out the idea.   
  
*****^^^^^*****  
  
I am tired of being called a monster, I am tired of people thinking that mutants are devils and demons from Hell, I am tired of having to fight both mutants and humans. Most of all, I am tired of the shame and fear that can be so overwhelming.   
  
I envy Eric sometimes; he doesn't have any outward signs of mutation. Neither do any of the X-men, Pyro or Professor Xavier. They discovered their powers in one way or another, but none of them just woke up and had a different body. I seriously doubt that Jean's parents started screaming at her and kicked her out of the house when they saw that she could make a pencil float with her stupid brain!   
  
Sure, they wanted mutant rights, but they didn't know what real unjust treatment or prejudice was. I did. Eric sure as Hell did. That's why we fight, and show no mercy.   
  
Eric.   
  
I am forever grateful for him. He may not have known exactly what it was like, but he did try to make me feel better about it as we were passing by the protester groups.  
  
Just seeing them sort of reminded the both of us why we were here. We had to stop them, in one way or another.   
  
We reached the building and saw that there was no way we could get in through the front. There were a number of different solutions to choose from: break in through a side window, create a diversion to lure the front guards away, we could even climb up to the roof and try to gain access from there; but we never got the chance.   
  
We were not the only group interested in these protest rallies.   
  
Eric was staring at the building, probably assessing his options of entry, when we both heard it.   
  
It was like a whisper that rolled across our minds. It was the same powerful yet gentle voice I remembered from school.   
  
'What are you two doing here?' Charles Xavier was here, somewhere. He could sense our presence in the city, and most likely knew our exact location.  
  
I looked through the crowd. There were plenty of people on the streets, but none of them were bald and in a wheelchair.   
  
"Don't bother, Mystique. He'll reveal his location when he's ready." Eric told me.   
  
He turned away from the rally leaders' building and walked down the street, back towards the hotel. I followed him.  
  
I glanced through the crowds, searching for Pyro, but then I remembered that Eric had given him an hour. He still had plenty of time.  
  
We went up to our room, and waited for the X-men to make an appearance. 


	18. Damage

Pyro had been waiting for us once we entered the hotel suite.   
  
We had sent him off on his own to learn what he could, and he had succeeded. While we had learned nothing at all, he had learned the one thing we wanted to know: how the organization- the Friends of Humanity- planned to put an end to mutants.   
  
Eric had assumed it was going to be mass murders; I had assumed it would be fetal DNA manipulation. Sort of like 'nipping it in the bud', they would extract the X-gene from a child before it was born.   
  
Neither guess was correct.   
  
From several 'reliable' sources, Pyro had found that the leaders were developing a way to negate any mutant's powers or abilities completely. He wasn't exactly sure how they could do something like that, but if the FoH was successful, no mutant would be safe.   
  
This is exactly why Eric decided that action must be taken. There was no guarantee that the X-men were in the city, Xavier could've made that mind contact with us through Cerebro. They were only a potential obstacle, and one that could be easily evaded.   
  
We waited until nightfall to make our move.   
  
^^^^^  
  
During the day, there had been two visibly armed guards blocking the front doors. During the night, the real security came out. Two more armed guards and extra perimeter night watchmen.   
  
Within half an hour, I had transformed into them all. When they came out of unconsciousness, they won't remember a thing. No matter, that would be hours from now, and we'll be long gone with everything we need by then.   
  
I took care of the last few guards and stole a cell phone from one lying on the ground by my feet.   
  
"Eric, are you ready?" I asked over the phone.  
  
I could practically hear him smirk. "Of course, my dear." He replied.   
  
A second later, all but the emergency lights of the building went out. Eric had just created a strong electromagnetic pulse that took out the main power grid and with it all the alarms and security cameras.  
  
"Thanks, now where are you?" I asked.   
  
"I'm on the roof with John, why don't you go on inside, and we'll meet with you somewhere in the middle?"   
  
"Done and done." I said as I hung up. I held onto the cell phone and let myself inside.   
  
How was I to know that what we were to find inside of that building would rock Eric and my relationship down to its core?  
  
^^^^^  
  
Most of the building looked like any other corporate organization. There was no real personality to the floor, only miles and miles of cubicles. I tried hacking into some of the computers, but most of them were completely empty, which could mean only one thing: they were just for show.  
  
The Friends of Humanity was hiding something.   
  
I gave up on the computers, and began to look for John and Eric. Past more cubicles, the office kitchen and water cooler, I heard sounds and saw moving shadows coming from one room, and let myself in.  
  
It wasn't a room, it was a laboratory! It looked like something out of a movie, there were test tubes, experiments, rats in cages; Eric was going through the computer files while John was stealing paper documents from a file cabinet.   
  
"Have you guys found anything yet?" I asked. They jumped when they heard my voice, and John whipped out his lighter, ready to attack.   
  
"Hey, it's me, relax." I said as I changed back into my natural body, I had forgotten that I was wearing the security guard disguise.  
  
John pocketed the lighter, "Sorry, my bad. All this breaking and entering stuff is still new to me, remember? Speaking of which, I've found some stuff."  
  
He handed me a few of the papers he had found. I had started reading but I didn't get to finish.  
  
"Put your hands over your head, now!" came a demanding voice. We all turned around. It was a real security guard this time, and he wasn't alone.   
  
There were about a dozen of the FoH's top agents behind him, all leveling guns straight at us. I wasn't worried though.  
  
Eric can stop bullets in midair, or steal the guns right out of their hands. These guns looked different, though. They looked...plastic. And if they were plastic, then the bullets were too! I looked to Eric, he had already noticed and came up with an idea.   
  
"John, I have an idea, why don't you show them why we call you Pyro." Eric asked from behind me. I looked to my right. John had smiled dangerously as he pulled out his lighter, and within a second, there was a firewall between the agents and us.  
  
"Ok, now what?" John asked. Eric looked out the window. "John, torch this building. If this is where they began to develop ideas for that negation of our powers, I don't want any record found, you understand me?"   
  
John winked. "Yeah, I think I can manage that." He turned away from us and a fireball hovered over his palm. He threw it in a trashcan that ignited immediately.   
  
This room would be ashes in minutes.   
  
Eric continued, "We'll have to leave out that window." He walked towards it, and flew out into the cool night air. I followed, and felt the usual sense of dizziness I get whenever Eric uses his powers to hold me up.  
  
Slowly, we lowered down to the ground. Pyro was still inside, making sure his flames consumed everything in the room.   
  
From where we stood on the street, we could see into the office window, the room was glowing orange. He must've felt his mission was accomplished, because he came to the window.  
  
Beside me, Eric held out his hand, and brought Pyro down from the building safely. Not a moment too soon, either.   
  
*****  
  
The FoH agents were very persistent; they retreated from Pyro's fire and came out the front doors just as John's feet touched cement.   
  
"There they are, open fire!" gunshots rang out around us, and I grabbed John, shielding him with my body.   
  
Eric had warped a magnetic field around us to act as a shield, but we still needed to escape the agents.   
  
We turned to run, and I changed into a human to evade the eyes of the people who would certainly be awakened by all the noise.   
  
"Should we go after them?" asked one of the agents. "No, don't bother."  
  
After a lot of running, we made it back into the hotel suite. The doorman had not noticed our entrance due to a trashcan being torched right outside the front, and the security cameras experienced a momentary glitch and did not record for a few minutes.  
  
We were effectively invisible.  
  
Pyro went into the kitchen to grab a soda and a bag of chips. Eric turned on the news to see if Pyro's inferno did the trick.  
  
"Once again I am outside the building that was recently purchased by the Friends of Humanity, the organization that is currently supporting Mutant Registration and has held numerous protests this week. As you can see, a massive fire had erupted tonight, and the fire department is having a difficult time putting it out. No word yet on what caused the blaze, but arson has not been ruled out."  
  
The reporter went on to discuss various possible causes, but we were no longer interested.   
  
Eric ruffled Pyro's hair and exclaimed, "Excellent work, my boy!"  
  
Pyro smiled and seemed a little embarrassed by the sudden praise. "Hey, just doing what you told me." He said quietly.  
  
I smiled at him, I may not know him as well as Eric did, but it did seem kind of out of character for him to be so modest.   
  
I was sitting on the couch and the mirror caught my eye. I went over to look at my reflection.   
  
I had changed on the street when we were running from the agents, I hadn't really put much thought into who I would become.   
  
I just needed a human face, any one would have been fine, but I wasn't counting on becoming her.  
  
Medium length blonde hair, fair skin, light blue eyes.   
  
My own face stared back at me, my human face. I hadn't changed into my human form since...since I gave Eric the means to escape from jail.  
  
I looked closer; I would be pretty if that face was truly mine.  
  
I closed my eyes and changed back to my normal form.  
  
When I opened them, they were still light blue. 'What the?'  
  
I closed my eyes again and concentrated, harder this time. 'Blue scales, yellow eyes, red hair.'  
  
I opened my eyes again, and nothing had changed.   
  
I was still me, but not the me I wanted to see.  
  
I closed my eyes, and concentrated as hard as I could. 'Blue scales, red hair, yellow eyes, now!' I commanded with my mind. I did not feel the transformation sweep over me like usual.   
  
I felt nothing, except for rising panic in my chest. I opened my eyes and there was still no change. My eyes had started to tear up and my face was getting red.  
  
Eric had come over, "Mystique, what's the matter?"  
  
My head was swimming, and I felt weak. It was getting harder to breathe but I managed to say, "Eric...I can't...I can't change back." 


	19. Secrets Revealed

The next day had been somewhat of a blur for Mystique.

She had found that she was unable to change her form in any way. While she, Eric and John had been on the street, escaping from the agents, she had needed to change. Her adrenalin running high, she hadn't noticed that she was actually somehow being forced to change into her original body against her will.

She had created clothes from her flesh on the street, but her body was unwilling to keep up even that charade, and the t-shirt and jeans she had created appeared to melt into her skin, leaving her very naked in the hotel room.

Shielding her from Pyro's eyes, Eric had given her a bathrobe to wear while he went to make her some tea. During the course of the night, she had been alternately crying and hyperventilating in a blind panic.

She had no control whatsoever over her ability, it was as if she had forgotten how to use her power altogether.

How could such a thing have happened?

The question was mind-boggling to the three occupants of the upscale penthouse suite. Mystique had been crying at the dining room table while her clothes were dissolving, and it was John who saw it.

He had been pacing back and forth behind Mystique's chair, trying to think of a way to help, and was frustrated when he came up empty. Mystique had laid her head in her folded arms on the table, exposing her back to him. While her t-shirt melted into her skin, John caught sight of something.

He stopped his pacing, and came up behind her. It was a small, black protrusion. It was tiny, it could've been a mole, but it was too dark and looked artificial. He reached out to touch it.

It fell off her and landed on the floor. "What the..." he muttered.

"What are you doing?" she asked him. He reached down to pick it up.

"This fell off you, what is it?" she looked at it and frowned. "I don't know."

Eric came in from the kitchen with a freshly brewed cup of tea. Wordlessly, he handed it to her. "Eric, do you know what this is?" John asked as he handed it to him. Eric looked at the tiny object closely.

It was jet black, with one end rounded while the other came to a sharp point, meant to pierce the skin. With a shock of realization, Eric understood what had happened. The object he held was more than met the eye. It was both a bullet and a syringe. While he was going through the computer files in the building, he had read of plans in development for a serum.

The serum could be injected into the bloodstream and negate a mutant's power.

The bullet was tiny; it had done no real damage because it was not meant to kill.

It was meant to deliver.

The serum was very powerful; the tiny amount that had been introduced into her body had successfully rendered her powerless. 'Oh, no.'

"Mystique, the weapon they had in development to negate a mutant's powers...it's a liquid injection. The FoH has created tiny syringes in the guise of bullets. Darling, you were hit, but I promise you I'll find the cure." Eric said as seriously as he could.

Mystique's eyes refilled with tears, and she reached out to hug Eric as if he were her last connection to life. He hugged her back. "Maybe you should go lay down, rest for awhile, and by the time you wake up we'll have a plan of action." Mystique nodded her head and went to their room without a word.

It was decided then, while Mystique was sleeping (or at least trying to) that they would seek the aid of Charles Xavier and his merry crew. Eric and John had run down their short list of allies, realizing that none of them had the means to help with this situation. Only Charles had the means- the medical equipment, the protection, the knowledge- to help them.

Reluctantly, Eric had made the call.

Mystique woke up to find herself in the same condition as when she went to bed. No blue scales, no red hair or lizard eyes. She had awoken early and the past night's events were still fresh in her mind. She had looked down at her body, both angered and frustrated to find that it had not somehow changed back to her version of normal overnight.

No such luck.

Eric had found her sitting before the twin mirrors that covered the closet doors on the floor. She hung her head, strangely ashamed to let him see her like this. He had spoken softly, as if trying to soften the blow. "Mystique, we're going to Charles, he may be able to help us." She had simply nodded, not bothering to say a word or even look up.

She felt material being draped over her shoulders, and then he was gone.

The helicopter ride took several hours, but Mystique hardly noticed. She sat in the back, silent and unmoving save for some fidgeting. She had to wear a combination of John and Eric's clothes, for she could not create her own from her flesh.

Neither the pants nor the shirt fit very well.

John glanced back at her from the passenger seat, and saw her sigh as she stared out the window. Quietly, he spoke to Eric, "She isn't taking this very well."

"Would you?"

"I guess not, but I think she has it worse than I would if it were me."

"Yes, I suppose she does. But don't worry too much John. She is strong, possibly the strongest of us all." John remained silent after that, contemplating Eric's words.

The mansion came into view, and he landed the chopper on the front lawn. They departed from the helicopter and strode to the front door. Eric and Charles had spoken on the phone, which John thought to be a little strange.

After what had happened at the lake, the Statue of Liberty and after all the incidents before that, John thought it was crazy that they could even bear to hear the other's voice. But they were friends for years...they shared a true friendship.

Eric knocked three times and the door then swung open. Charles Xavier sat before them in his customized wheelchair, wearing his commonplace suit and tie. He looked just as John remembered him. He greeted them with a smile.

"Hello Eric, Mystique, John. I imagine that this has been quite a trial for all of you, so we should get right to work, eh? Oh, and don't worry about the X-men, they won't be here for most of the day. I sent them out on another field trip, and they know nothing about this. Of course, we will have to tell all once they come back."

"Quite alright, Charles. I really can't thank you enough for this, it's insanely generous of you."

Xavier smiled at that. "Well, you're probably right about that. You two are nothing but trouble, but what the FoH has done is unconscionable. If there is any way I can derail their plans of spreading this manipulation, I'll do it."

He led them down to the lower levels of the house, down into the tunnels. One of the doors opened and led them into the medical area.

It was highly clinical, immaculate.

"All right, Mystique, I'll need a blood sample. Also, we may have to do some x-rays. Would you sit on the table here?" He gestured to the table, and she did so without a word. She had not said anything to anyone since the night before. Her expression hadn't changed much at all, and she was being very distant, Eric was beginning to worry about her.

Xavier took out a stethoscope had listened to her heartbeat; he took her pulse, temperature, and other vital signs. Eric and John stood idly by, wishing for something to do. "Well, her vitals are completely normal. Whatever was injected into her body has not affected anything other than her power."

He took a blood sample and went off to the lab, bringing John along with him, leaving Eric and Mystique alone. The x-rays were coming up; she had changed into the provided paper hospital gown and lay down on the examination table.

Eric sat in a chair close to the table. She had never shown him her human form. Despite being lovers, friends and teammates, it had been one of the few things she kept secret. He looked at her closely.

She was beautiful.

Her face possessed a noble, aristocratic quality. Her skin was fair, but had a healthy glow, almost sun kissed. Her hair was honey blonde, resting just above her shoulders. She had eyes the same shade as his, bright blue.

She looked different, but she was still Mystique.

A lock of hair had fallen into her eyes, and Eric reached to brush it out of the way. His hand stayed on her face for a few seconds longer, and she made eye contact with him for the first time that day.

He could see how frustrated and scared she was. In turn, she could see how determined he was to help her. A silent moment of understanding passed between them. There were things that needed to be said, but they never got the chance.

Charles and John came back from the adjacent lab area and the contact was broken. Eric removed his hand and sat back in his chair, while Mystique returned her eyes to the ceiling. "All right, this won't hurt a bit. Just lie as still as you possibly can." Charles directed. Mystique did as she was told as the x-ray process began.

"Well, there hasn't been any internal damage, which is lucky. I still have to examine her blood, but we'll have answers soon. John, why don't you and Mystique get some lunch? This could take a long time." John and Mystique nodded, leaving the medical lab.

They walked through the metallic hallways, in a somewhat awkward silence.

John and Mystique hadn't really bonded on the level that he and Eric had. He knew nothing of her past life, and very little of her current one. What must she be feeling right now?

He now knew that that was what she looked like under the blue scales, and he had to give Eric a hand. She was hot! Not just your everyday cute chick seen at the mall, but she was grade-A magazine quality hot; and the most ironic thing was that she didn't even seem to notice, but if she did, she didn't care.

As they rounded a corner of the large house on their way towards the kitchen, John bumped into someone. "Uh-oh." He muttered as he saw that it was Cyclops.

Charles had spent a great deal of time explaining the situation to Cyclops, Storm and Wolverine. They understood it, but they detested the idea of them staying in the mansion. Charles felt it would be necessary if he were find a cure, while the X-men felt they would be better off somewhere else.

"They'd be better off ANYWHERE else, Professor! Have you forgotten what Magneto tried to do at Alkali Lake!" Scott demanded.

"No, Scott. I haven't forgotten, but I have forgiven Eric for it."

"Professor, how can you trust them? What if Mystique is just faking all of this just to spy on us? They've done it before."

"What do you mean before?" asked Logan from the doorway.

"Mystique was a student here, Magneto was her teacher." Ororo explained quickly.

Logan shrugged, "Why am I not surprised?"

Despite the many protests, the Brotherhood stayed. Eric and Mystique were given a vacant room, and John was allowed to use his own former dorm. The X- men and Brotherhood had no choice but to learn how to cooperate and get along, Ororo had even gone as far as letting Mystique borrow her clothes until Eric restored her powers.

It had been weeks since they first arrived, and as far as Mystique knew, nothing helpful had been learned. Eric spent most of his time in the lab with Xavier, working hard to find an antidote.

She appreciated his effort, but she was beginning to feel a distance separating them. They had not been intimate and rarely spent time together since he was now so busy.

The one time they had attempted the act had ended disastrously.

Flashback

One, two, three.

Mystique pulled the brush through her blonde locks more out of boredom than vanity. She didn't really care what her hair looked like, but she had to do something to occupy her time until Eric returned from the lab.

Eric was always working late; she wanted to at least show him that his efforts for her weren't unnoticed.

Four, five, six.

She stood before the bureau, barefoot, clad only in another borrowed nightgown of Storm's, letting her mind wander to take up the empty minutes of the night.

Her train of thought, of course, never strayed far from the topic at hand. How much longer would she be without her powers, trapped in this body? Granted, it was her own human body, the same in size and shape as her blue form, but to her it represented a world she had left behind.

Eric entered their room, careful not to disturb Mystique. She had been very distant since the whole ordeal began, he knew she had been skipping meals and avoiding sleep. She had withdrawn from him, so far that she hadn't even noticed his presence.

Slowly, he went to her, placing a hand on her back. She turned to him, but her eyes wouldn't meet his. Eric's heart sank at her diminished vigor; Mystique was a shell of her former self.

He cupped her cheek and brought her face up to meet his. Tenderly, he pressed his lips to hers, pleased when she parted her mouth for him, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

Eric smoothed his hands down her body, frowning slightly as he felt how thin she had become. He brought her closer to him. Mystique broke the kiss to make a small gasp of surprise as he molded her body to his, jumping and nearly crying out when she felt his hands abruptly slide under the chemise to rest against the bare skin of her belly.

He kissed her again, taking her hands in his as he backed up to the bed, and pulled Mystique onto his lap. Her long legs draped over his, toes nearly touching the floor as she straddled him. The thin strap of her chemise had slipped off her shoulder and Eric kissed the newly exposed skin. Then her collarbone, then her neck; he lazily made his way up to her mouth.

Mystique remained passive, letting Eric play her body like a harp. She wanted to please him as well, but he nudged her hands away, "This is for you." He panted between kisses. He was content with her teasing, feather- light strokes at the nape of his neck.

Boldly, Eric's hand had found its way down from her back to her inner thigh. He smiled when he heard her sharp intake of breath, followed by the soft moan of his name. Mystique pressed her forehead to his, her breath coming in heavy pants.

Torturingly slow, his hand moved up her leg, underneath the silk hem of her nightgown. A hoarse cry erupted from her throat as he caressed her, Mystique's hands pulled tightly at the fabric of his shirt. Eric grasped her hips and lifted her off his lap, setting her on the bed. Mystique welcomed his weight and his touch as he came over her.

Their fingers interlaced as Eric kissed his way down her body, making her feel so good that all the worries from the past months began to slip away. Mystique's breath died in her lungs as his other hand slid upward, along her ribs and under her chemise to cup a breast-his hand was incinerating her, turning the blood in her veins to scorching lava. Moaning, she pressed her head to his shoulder and pushed harder against his thighs. Eric removed her chemise and tossed it aside, kissing his way back up her nude body.

Mystique panted as heat waves rolled over her while Eric's seductive, punishing hands and mouth played havoc with her body and mind. Mystique felt that she could faint from the pure sensation of it. Wet kisses covered her stomach and thighs, Eric brushed his lips up her torso, pausing when he came upon her cursed scars.

He had always been troubled at the sight and feel of them. Mystique's eyes snapped open as the memories came rushing back. Wolverine driving the unyielding length of his claws into her innards, shredding the muscle tissue, leaving her for dead.

She looked to her side and caught her reflection in the mirror, unable to recognize herself. Eric was with another woman that had stolen her body!

Panicking, Mystique shrank from his touch and cried out, "No, no, Eric, stop!"

Eric immediately stopped and got up, letting her away from him.

Defensively, she backed away, up to the headboard. "Mystique, what's wrong?" he asked, "Did I hurt you?"

Mystique wrapped her arms around her knees, seemingly trying to protect her naked body from some threat she saw in him.

Threat from Eric? How could she think it was possible?

He had no idea what to say, but it was obvious to him that whatever he had done had triggered this negative reaction.

'Negative' wasn't a serious enough word for the situation, she looked absolutely terrified of him!

She sat across from him on the bed, trembling; her skin washed pale in the moonlight, making her appear delicate and frail.

"Mystique, I'm sorry." He said gently as he moved forward, thankful that she didn't flinch when he put his arms around her.

"No, Eric, I'm sorry...it's just, I can't-"

"It's alright. We don't have to, I can wait as long as it takes." He pulled her into his lap again, for affection rather than lust.

They stayed together, their bodies nestled together like spoons. During the night, when he knew Mystique was still awake, but pretending to be asleep so that he wouldn't worry about her, Eric had made her a promise.

"Mystique, I'll find the cure for you."

That horrible night had been weeks ago; Eric spent every night in the lab with Charles, but he told her nothing of their progress, if any.

She was starting to feel deliberately left out of the loop.

Whenever she tried to ask him about it, he would remark, "We have found nothing new, I'm afraid."

He was hiding something from her. She could feel it.

There was only so much she could take; this was her life they were talking about! One night while she was sleeping, she felt movement beside her. Eric had quietly left their bed, taking great care not to wake her, and left the room.

He closed the door behind him and strode towards Charles's office. She watched his departing form, and made the decision to follow him. If he refused to tell her what he was hiding, she would find out about it herself.

She may have been unable to shape-shift, but she was still "Sneaky Mystique".

Carefully, she had crouched down next to Xavier's office doors, and listened in on their conversation.

Eric's voice was the first she heard. "What did you call me up here to talk about?"

Frowning, Charles wheeled himself behind his desk. "Um...Eric, it's not that easy to discuss. I did a blood test and..."

"What! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Eric please, this is very difficult. I did the blood test and I found that the serum is still active. In fact, it's bonded to Mystique's genes."

Eric's face fell, his heartbeat increasing rapidly. Little did he know that Mystique's actions mirrored his own.

"Do you understand, Eric? It may not be possible for Mystique to recover her lost ability. She may have to live the rest of her life as a human."


	20. Wounded Heart

Author's Note: this chapter switches to 1st person POV. Enjoy!  
  
"Do you understand, Eric? It may not be possible for Mystique to recover her lost ability. She may have to live the rest of her life as a human."   
  
Upon hearing this statement, Mystique's world began to spin.   
  
She felt a strong wave of dizziness sweep over her, followed by a feeling of vertigo.   
  
She had heard enough; she desperately wanted to get away from the two men she *thought* she could trust, the mansion, the medical lab, everything. She just wanted to get away...now!   
  
She had been crouched beside the office doors, but now, in her desperation to flee she gave no thought to the two keys of stealth: silence and invisibility.   
  
She scrabbled back away from the office entrance, not caring about the vase she knocked over in her escape. Her breathing had increased rapidly as she rose unsteadily to her feet.  
  
"Oh, God, it's Mystique!" she heard from behind her as she ran down the hallway.   
  
She was feeling suddenly claustrophobic in addition to the vertigo, dizziness and shock. She saw the door to the backyard at the end of the hall and bolted for it. All she wanted was to escape from the crushing pressure that was building in her chest.  
  
She shoved the doors open and ran across the lawn and into the flower garden. Had she been more coherent she would have noticed how beautiful it looked in the moonlight, but she could not concentrate on anything other than what she had just heard.   
  
Trapped as a human? For the rest of her life? Impossible!   
  
How could this have happened? Mystique felt a ball of lead forming in the pit of her stomach; her chest was swelling to the point that it was painful to breathe.   
  
The panic attack wracked her body as her mind raced with questions and concerns.  
  
The Friends of Humanity had used her as a test subject. In stealing her ability to shape-shift, they had stole a part of her life. She could be doomed to live as a normal human woman for the rest of her years. The normal human woman she would have grown to be had she not been born with an x-gene.   
  
How would she reenter the world? She had graduated from high school, but had dropped out of Xavier's college level courses after only a semester.   
  
She was a martial artist and had extensive computer hacking skills; but how could she help Eric in their cause without her power?  
  
Eric. What would happen to them if she became the very thing he despised?  
  
She had been trudging through the large gardens, so consumed in her predicament that she hadn't noticed where she was going.   
  
She stumbled on some rocks, and fell face first into the large pond at the center of the flower gardens.   
  
Angered now, she sat up on her knees and wiped the mud from her face. The moon came out from behind the gathering clouds above, illuminating the whole area around her.  
  
She looked down at the water, where her reflection blurred in and out of focus as the pond rippled with her movements.   
  
Her skin was washed pale by the moon's light reflected on the water, her hair appeared platinum. She was a stranger to herself.  
  
She hated her human form more than anything, and she screamed at the face staring back at her from the water, "I hate you!"  
  
A burning fury spread through her body, and she brought her fist down on her reflection, splashing the image.   
  
"Mystique, what you heard, it's not..." Eric stammered once he caught up to her.   
  
Without letting him finish, she demanded, "Is what the Professor said true? Am I...stuck like this?"  
  
Eric sighed heavily. "It is possible."  
  
"It's possible?! Well what if it's true? What about us?"  
  
"Mystique, this doesn't change anything."  
  
"You say that but you don't mean it."  
  
"Yes I do, more than anything."  
  
"I can't believe you, Eric. I'm sorry, but I can't believe that. Not after everything we've been through. For years, it's always been us against the world...now it'll be my race against yours."  
  
"It won't be that way!"  
  
"Yes it will!" Mystique protested, "We'll try to pretend like it doesn't bother us, but as more time goes on, we won't be able to ignore it. Without my power I'm just another human; what use am I to you or anyone else?!"  
  
Eric was shocked, "Mystique, don't say that, don't even think it."  
  
"All I've ever been is a soldier or a spy for you, now I'll just be another human in the way."  
  
"That's not all you are to me, Mystique. You mean more to me than you could ever know."   
  
He gently took her hands in his. Her human hands.   
  
Mystique could no longer speak; it was too much too fast. She was breathing hard, trying to pull in more oxygen than was available.   
  
She had never felt so upset in her life. She felt betrayed by Eric. She had trusted him to help her, and now he was telling her that it was 'possible' she may be trapped like this forever.   
  
He had promised her that he would find an antidote, and now he was giving up! It was like he wanted her to stay like this! She was doomed to be a human and it was all Eric's fault!   
  
In once swift movement, Mystique twisted out from his grasp; releasing all of the anger, fear and frustration she had kept pent up inside over the last few weeks, she slapped him across the face.   
  
As hard as she could.   
  
In a split second, knew that she had gone too far. In all their years together, Eric had never laid a finger on her in anger, but her outburst had changed all that their relationship once was.   
  
"Eric, I...I didn't mean to...it was..." He held up a hand to silence her, and shook his head. His gesture was plain: she had crossed the line.   
  
He turned his back on her and walked back towards the house. She stood there in the moonlit garden; her borrowed nightgown wet and muddy, her face smeared with dirt, her hair a wild mess.   
  
Of all the things she had wished for in the past, now she wished to turn back the clock. That would be such a useful power to have right now.  
  
Eric loved her, and wanted to go back to hold her, comfort her in any way he could, but he was too hurt right now. Had he looked back, he may have seen how she had sunk down to her knees and cried.   
  
*****^^^^^  
  
I ran from the mansion, or rather, I drove. Poor Scott, if someone isn't stealing his motorcycle, someone was stealing one of his new cars. But that's his problem, not mine.   
  
I had bigger things to worry about.  
  
Like the fact that I just ruined my relationship with Eric. The things I said paled in comparison to what I did to him when all he was trying to do was make me feel better.   
  
I slapped him. Hard.  
  
I don't know why, I was just so angry and frustrated about being so helpless. My life as I once knew it, is no more. My mutant ability has been tossed to the winds, and I am doomed to remain as I am: a human.  
  
I could not have imagined a worse thing to happen to me if I had tried. Compared to this, being stabbed by Wolverine seemed like a cakewalk.   
  
I don't want to be a human again, it was bad enough the first time around: the abusive mom, the guys she picked up from the bar always in and out of our house, never having enough money, cops always hassling me.   
  
I don't want to go through that again!  
  
Everything I said to Eric would probably happen anyway. If I were to be stuck like this, I would only get in the way; I wouldn't be of use to him anymore.   
  
Eric, I hate that this has happened. I want things back to the way they used to be, when we were living on the island and everything was perfect because all we had or needed was each other.   
  
I stripped off the nightgown that Storm had let me borrow. It was still wet and muddy from when I tripped into the pond. I saw my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I looked weird; my skin was light instead of dark blue and my hair was blonde instead of red.   
  
And that face...the face that didn't belong to me, just stared back.  
  
I threw the nightgown over the mirror. That face was the last thing I wanted to see or think about right now.  
  
I just wanted some sleep.   
  
*****^^^^^  
  
Because she did not feel like ordering room service, only to eat alone again, Mystique decided to test the waters of humanity. She was in a large building filled with complete strangers who did not know anything of her past, or her present.   
  
She had spent days in her room, trying to come to terms.   
  
She reasoned with herself that if she were doomed to be a human, she might as well act like one. She tossed on the provided hotel bathrobe and ventured outside.  
  
There was a café a few floors above her room, and since she was hungry anyway, she decided to go up there and try to behave like a normal woman.  
  
She took the elevator five floors up, and sat down at a table.   
  
A waitress approached her.   
  
"Hello Miss. Can I get you anything to start off with this morning?"  
  
Mystique glanced at the menu. "Oh, yes, I'll have the Spanish omelet please."  
  
"Coming right up, ma'am."   
  
Mystique sat comfortably in the chair, and watched the other people around her.   
  
For the first time, she really looked at them. She wasn't watching for any potential threats, choosing the proper time to attack, or selecting a target from the crowd; she was just watching as people went about their daily lives.  
  
Mothers cooed over their babies, teenagers flirted and argued with each other, little children ran around the floor.   
  
"You look pensive, should I come back later?" asked a masculine voice from behind her.   
  
Mystique twisted in her chair quickly to find who had spoken to her.  
  
It was a young man, very handsome. His thick, black hair fell into his eyes; his dark brown eyes, which complemented his bronzed skin. She estimated that he stood taller than her, and he carried his body very well under his leather jacket.   
  
Mystique could hardly find her voice. "I, um, no, you're fine. I mean, you being here right now is fine."  
  
The man flashed her a smile. "Well, that's good. If you had told me to leave, I would have looked very foolish." He took the chair across from hers at the table.   
  
"Good morning, my name is Jake Truman." He took Mystique's hand in a firm yet friendly handshake.   
  
He held onto her hand, his expression searching hers. He wanted very much to know her name, but what could she tell him? 'My name is Mystique, no last name.' He'd probably think she was some self-absorbed rock star!  
  
"Uh, my name is...Misty."   
  
Jake smiled, "Just Misty? Misty what?"   
  
"Um..." Mystique looked past Jake and saw a woman strike a match to light her cigarette. "Misty Allerdyce. My name is Misty Allerdyce, and good morning to you, Jake Truman. It's nice to meet you."  
  
"Misty Allerdyce," Jake said, testing out the name. "That's a lovely name for a lovely woman."  
  
Mystique felt a blush creeping over her cheeks and could just kick herself for it. "Oh, thank you Jake."  
  
"Misty, I'm know I've already been very forward, but I'd like to press the boundaries just a little more, if you'd allow it."  
  
Mystique must've smiled or made some gesture to urge him on, though she was sure it wasn't conscious.   
  
"Would you like to accompany me for a night on the town? I'd make it a very memorable experience for you."   
  
Mystique was astonished! "I...uh..." she stammered helplessly.   
  
"What's the matter, you're not attached, are you?"  
  
The question caught her off-guard. She and Eric had been through so much, and the events from the night in the garden had put a nearly insurmountable strain on their relationship. She had no idea whether or not if they could recover from what she had done, she had not even spoken to him since she left the mansion.   
  
They just needed time apart, even the most loving of couples need a break every now and then, she reasoned.   
  
Besides, it's not like anything serious could develop.  
  
"Um, well, sort of, but we're taking a sort of a little...vacation from each other."  
  
"Well, I can respect that, but who would want to leave you? You're not the daily grind, you're the ski resort!"  
  
Mystique didn't know what to say, but she couldn't help herself when she started laughing.   
  
"I'll take that as a 'yes'. We could go to dinner, see a show, or go shopping if you'd like."  
  
"Sure, that'd be wonderful!" Mystique laughed.  
  
"Perfect, I'll pick you up around eight?"  
  
"Eight is great, my room number is 12B."  
  
"Cool, I'll be there!" Jake left her table and went down the elevator, leaving Mystique alone to eat her breakfast and think about the night ahead. 


	21. Lonely

It's five o'clock in the morning, and once again, I have awoken to find myself alone. It's been over a week since that night in the gardens and I have not seen or heard from Mystique since then.   
  
She was so full of pain and anger that night, and looking back now, I cannot blame her for her actions. Charles and I had been spending hours at a time in the laboratory, searching for the antidote. It was so frustrating, every turn we took led us to a dead end.   
  
Mystique had been through enough, and I didn't want to aggravate her further with the news that we had tried a dozen things already with minimal results. I wanted to tell her something, anything, to give her hope, but there was nothing to tell.   
  
No doubt she felt that I was keeping secrets from her, but how could I have told her that we had no idea how to cure her?  
  
She found out the truth in the worst way possible.  
  
I was holding Mystique in my arms that night, looking down at the unfamiliar vixen that shared my bed. She had never before shown me her human form; I hadn't really thought about it before.   
  
On occasion, I had heard some of Charles's students discussing the beautiful blonde woman; and I believe the words 'total hottie' and 'sexy' were used. I paid it no mind, of course, that was just locker room talk.   
  
Mystique's human face is lovely, but to me she will always be most beautiful when she's blue.   
  
I was contemplating these exact sentiments when Charles called out to me.   
  
'Eric, please come to my office, it's important.'  
  
He sounded very serious; perhaps he had found a cure? I could only hope so.  
  
I stroked Mystique's face with the backs of my fingers before I left her side.  
  
I had no idea that she followed me.   
  
Charles sat there behind his desk, the past month's disappointment clear in every line on his face. I sat down before him.   
  
I asked him why he asked me to his office, and he told me.   
  
"Do you understand, Eric? It may not be possible for Mystique to recover her lost ability. She may have to live the rest of her life as a human."  
  
I did not get the chance to reply, as a crash from the hallway drew both of our attention. I opened the office doors and saw a shattered vase on the floor, but more importantly, a woman fleeing the scene.  
  
"Oh, God, it's Mystique!" Her movements were erratic; no doubt she had heard everything.   
  
As any concerned lover would, I went after her.  
  
Past the grassy perimeter lawn, through the flower gardens and over the rocks, Mystique had finally stopped running. I saw her there, looking so pale and fragile in the moonlight. She was crouched in the water, slapping the surface.  
  
I called out to her, to try to explain what Charles had said. But she would have none of it; she kept insisting that our relationship would crumble because of what was done to her. Why couldn't she believe that I cared only about her, not her mutation? I would love her just the same, no matter what shape she took.  
  
I tried to calm her down, I took her hands in mine, but it only made her more upset.  
  
She slapped me.   
  
During the course of any relationship, arguments will arise. Ours was no different, we've had our spats, but they had never before turned physical. In all our years, I had never touched her in anger. Naturally, I was upset. Not because she hit me; but because she seemed to have no faith in my feelings for her, and it was I who had hurt her so much. I am the one to blame for everything that's happened.  
  
I left her in the garden, and went right back to my workstation. Charles was wrong, there was a cure, and I would find it.   
  
*****^^^^^  
  
There are times in a man's life when he must confide in friends.  
  
Charles has been a good friend to me, despite everything we have done to each other in the past. We had spent hours together everyday in the lab, working to find an antidote, a cure, for Mystique. He wanted to prevent the serum from spreading to other mutants, and while I truly did want that same thing, I wanted my Mystique back.   
  
I don't know if Charles had any thoughts on the relationship Mystique and I shared, but if he did, he had kept them to himself. He had never asked, and I had never told him anything about it.  
  
However, Charles doesn't miss much, and it has nothing to do with him being a psychic.   
  
A few days after Mystique left, he decided to bring up the subject.  
  
We had finished our work one night, and were walking beside each other through the hallway.   
  
"Eric, why don't you step into my office for a bit?"  
  
I followed him inside, and sat across from his desk. He poured me a scotch.  
  
"So, how are you holding up?" he asked.   
  
"What do you mean Charles?" I said, feigning ignorance.  
  
"Oh, come off it, Eric! You can't hold out on me."  
  
"Are you snooping in my mind again, Charles? You know that's dangerous territory."  
  
"I'm not reading your mind, Eric, I promise you I'm not. In any case, I wouldn't need to."  
  
"What are you getting at?"  
  
He sighed and rolled his eyes. We both knew what he was talking about, but he knew that I would not voluntarily discuss it; as a rule, I like to keep my personal relationships private.   
  
"Mystique's departure. You've been working twice as hard since she left, but you've also been pretending that it doesn't bother you in the least."  
  
"Well, she's a grown woman, and free to do what she wishes."  
  
"Eric, we've been more or less friends for years. After all that time, I think you owe me a little honesty."  
  
"What would you like to hear from me Charles? That when Mystique and I left the school we eloped and then adopted Pyro?" I joked, despite the fact that it wasn't very far from the truth.  
  
"That would be a good start. Why are you being so evasive, Eric? What is it, do you think that once I learn the true nature of your relationship I'd use it to my advantage? That I'd hurt Mystique to hurt you?"  
  
I shrugged. "The thought has crossed my mind."  
  
"Oh, for goodness' sake Eric, I'm not you!"  
  
We both laughed at that. It might have seemed strange, two sometimes enemies sipping scotch and talking about women, but to us it felt completely normal. As if the past betrayals and such had never occurred, and we were back to the way things were in better days. Back when we were nothing if not best friends.   
  
I was tired of evading his questions, so I decided to drop the act, and let him find out for himself.  
  
I poured another scotch for myself, and then another for Charles. "You know Charles, if you want honesty, you know how to get it."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You heard me, I'm giving you an open invitation."  
  
Charles seemed both hesitant and tempted. I know that he was insatiably curious about what had happened when Mystique and I left the school. After all, we had only come face to face a few times in all the years since then.   
  
Curiosity, it seems, won out over hesitation.   
  
He knocked back the rest of his drink, and leaned forward in his chair.   
  
I did the same, and within seconds, I could feel him gently probe my mind.  
  
He pushed past my wall of defenses, until my mind was completely vulnerable.   
  
Through my memories, Charles witnessed everything. The first time Mystique and I met in my classroom, the way we contrived our first plan together.   
  
He saw through my point of view how angry I became when we were found out.   
  
Charles and I relived the first few weeks that Mystique and I spent together away from the school.  
  
He saw- much better than I had- the exact moment when I began to care for my student more than any teacher should. In turn, Charles saw how Mystique's love for me grew as mine did for her.   
  
He watched as we built the island, how our bond grew stronger now that we shared a home.   
  
He watched as we embraced as lovers rather than friends for the first time.   
  
He saw how that together, Mystique and I were infinitely stronger than when we were alone. He could see our triumphs and failures.   
  
Her injury, my imprisonment, our reunion.  
  
He could feel how deeply I loved her.  
  
He relieved the day when he almost killed her at the lake; he then saw how Mystique and I manipulated him, and he felt how sorry I was.  
  
'It didn't have to come to this... but now it has.'  
  
He saw what happened that night in the garden, and then he broke the connection.  
  
"Eric, I'm so sorry, I had no idea!"  
  
"It's quite alright, Charles, you didn't know."  
  
"We'll find a cure for her, Eric. All we need is time, but we will find it."  
  
"I hope you're right Charles. And on that note, I'll see you in the lab tomorrow morning. Thank you for the drink."  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
That had been eight days ago, and we are still trying to find the cure. I know that we will find the cure, but my only concern is that by the time we find it, will Mystique still want to be her mutant self? 


	22. Drifting Away

Jake Truman was a wonderful date.  
  
He had been in New York on business, which is how he came to be staying at the same hotel as the lovely Misty Allerdyce. He had been finishing up his own breakfast when he saw that vision walk out of the elevator.  
  
Clothed in one of those pristine white robes, was a goddess. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed, long-legged goddess. From the moment she sat down at a table, he hadn't been able to keep his eyes off her. He was not alone; several sets of male eyes were on her.   
  
Jake was a confident man; what he wanted, he always got.   
  
He wasn't usually so bold with his advances, but this special woman warranted a special technique.   
  
He simply walked up to her and began a conversation.   
  
He sat at her table, learned her name, and convinced her to share the evening with him.  
  
It had been going very well.   
  
He had taken Misty to dinner, they had then gone to a movie, and were now enjoying the walk back to the hotel.  
  
She was so beautiful and laughed at all of his jokes, he had to admit that Misty was a catch.  
  
"So tell me, where did you go to school?"  
  
Misty shrugged and looked down bashfully. "Well, I was at this school in Westchester for a little while, but I left."  
  
"It doesn't seem to have held you back at all."  
  
She laughed, "Not in the least! I've done just about everything I had planned."  
  
They walked in silence for a few minutes after that, and he couldn't help but notice that she seemed to drift a little bit.   
  
The hotel came before them, and he opened the door for her to go inside first.  
  
He almost didn't want to know the answer, but he felt that he should at least ask.  
  
"Misty, are you missing your boyfriend?"  
  
"What?! Oh, no, I was...I was just looking at that billboard over there, that's all!"  
  
"You don't have to lie to me. What's really going on with you and him anyway?"  
  
Misty looked back down to the ground again, shielding her eyes from him. "Um, it's complicated."  
  
Jake shrugged, "Hey, I'm pretty smart. Try me."  
  
She frowned a little at that. The night had gone so well, would she ruin it by revealing too much?  
  
"Okay, if you insist. It started about two months ago. I don't want to bore you with the details, but something bad happened to me. He was supposed to help me, and he ran into some trouble along the way, and I lashed out at him for it. It wasn't really his fault, but I was angry and said a lot of things I shouldn't have."  
  
Jake and Misty stepped onto the elevator and he punched the floor button.  
  
"Jake, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you all this."  
  
"No, no, I'm glad you did. But just let me make sure of this: you and him, you're broken up, right?"  
  
Misty shrugged, "I don't know, but we probably are after what I did...why?"  
  
The elevator doors opened and Jake followed Misty onto the floor. "I just wanted to make sure that it'd be okay if I did this."  
  
Jake wrapped an arm around Misty's waist, and kissed her full on the lips.  
  
Inside, the woman he held was at war with herself.   
  
Mystique was split in two: one side of her was ready to kill Jake for having the gall to kiss her; the other was hating herself for enjoying it.  
  
Jake's lips were warm and pressed to hers tenderly. He was a good kisser, but he wasn't Eric.  
  
Despite her best efforts, her body was betraying her. She returned the kiss to Jake as passionately as she could. She loved Eric so deeply, but she was still a woman.  
  
Guilt bubbled up in her mind, attacking her with all the memories of Eric's many sacrifices for her.   
  
But hadn't she in turn sacrificed for him?   
  
Was she cheating on Eric?   
  
If she took this any further, would if ruin her relationship with Eric?  
  
Did she even have a relationship to worry about anymore?  
  
No one would find out, would they?  
  
What if Eric found out?   
  
After the way she had acted in the gardens, would he even care?  
  
Mystique didn't even know if she and Eric would be able to repair the damage that was done; and if they couldn't, then why should she deprive herself?  
  
Jake broke the kiss and asked, "Misty, would you like to come in?" 


	23. Cure

Author's note: Ha-ha-ha, oh, man, are you guys gonna hate me after this chapter!   
  
Like many of my ideas, it came to me in a dream.  
  
I was unsure at first, but I thought that it might be worth a try.  
  
Everything else that Charles and I had tried hadn't had much of an effect, what did I have left to lose by simply testing it?   
  
Nothing!  
  
I had no idea where Mystique had disappeared to; all that I did know was that she stole one of Scott's cars. He had exploded into my room the morning after the debacle in the gardens, demanding her whereabouts.  
  
Apparently, once he found his precious vehicle missing, he checked the security cameras. He even dragged me along with him to check the tape to verify his point. There she was; still clothed in her sopping wet nightgown, crying hysterically. We watched as she kicked in the driver's side window and climbed into the car. A few seconds later, the engine came to life and she sped out of the garage. I'm sure she hotwired it, though I wasn't able to see it on the film.   
  
He wasn't aware how painful it was for me to see her so distraught. I wanted to go to her, hold her, do everything I could to soothe her; but she was far out of reach by the time I found out what became of her that morning.   
  
I was certain she was safe, but I yearned to see her again. Despite my longing for her, I didn't want to go through the trouble of finding her, only to show up empty handed.   
  
The next time I saw her, it would be with an antidote. I owed her that much.  
  
The long awaited inspiration came to me in the night.  
  
It started out both strange and comforting.  
  
*^*^*^*  
  
I slipped into the dream, unaware of that world's circumstances. I found myself dressed casually and sitting on a picnic blanket in a large park. The blanket was located on the edge of a green, grassy field. The beautiful blue sky was scattered with fluffy white clouds, the sun shined down buttery warm light on us. Bright, colorful flowers were peppered throughout the terrain.   
  
It was Central Park, but it seemed too peaceful and perfect to be real.   
  
Pyro sat beside me, his sharp features relaxed...he was happy. He smiled at me, using his power to mold flame into shapes. A square, a triangle, a circle. At first, I was nervous.   
  
What was he doing?!   
  
Exposing himself out in the middle of the city like this? He'd be killed, even I couldn't protect him! I was panicked for a moment or two, but as I looked about the park, I found that we weren't alone.   
  
Central Park was filled with mutants!   
  
Using their powers openly or just enjoying the day in their interesting, non-human forms. I saw my old students the X-men, that chap Kurt from the jet, I saw Charles...I saw Jean.   
  
I looked back to my young companion.   
  
"What's the matter, Eric?" Pyro asked.   
  
His flame became a question mark hovering over his palm.   
  
"I...what happened? Why is everything different?" I asked.   
  
He shot me a look that perfectly matched my own confusion. "What do you mean? Things should be this way, right Mystique?" I felt a hand on my shoulder, and turned around.   
  
Mystique.   
  
My Mystique, back in her one true body. Her midnight skin shimmered in the sun; her teeth were startlingly white against her indigo lips as she smiled down at me. "Of course." Ah, her voice. I hadn't heard it in months, it echoed on the air in several tones at once. So beautiful, like spoken music.  
  
"Pyro, I have an idea. Why don't you go play catch with some of your X-men friends while I talk to Eric?" The boy raised his eyebrows and smiled.   
  
"Hey, if you want to be alone, all you have to do is ask." The flame in his hand molded into a heart, and he ran off.   
  
Mystique sat down across from me on the blanket. "Mystique, love, I don't understand." She seemed as if she were about to say something, but she looked past me and her face turned to horror.   
  
I spun around and saw the other mutants in the park, knocked out! All of the X-men, Kurt, Charles, even Pyro was slumped on the ground. Agents in trim suits stood amid the unconscious bodies, they looked triumphant.   
  
As one, they all turned their eyes towards Mystique and I. "Mystique, stay behind me, I'll stop them." I said as I stood up. She sat back on her elbows, "Eric, they've already done enough damage to me."  
  
The agents advanced on us from across the field. "I know you're trying hard, you're close. Very close, but even Einstein needed a little push every once in a while." She pointed towards the agents, and I saw the answer written in the sky.   
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
I shot upright in bed; I was sweating and breathing hard. That was by far the most bizarre dream I have ever had!  
  
Despite my doubts, however, I wrote down the symbols I had seen in the dreamland sky. It was a long, complicated chemical formula. Could this work?  
  
The idea seemed so far fetched that I questioned my sanity several times throughout the week. So did Charles.   
  
"Honestly, Eric, do you really think this will work? You dreamed it up, this formula could be the ingredients for tea cakes!" he had said.  
  
"We do not have anything left to lose, Charles. Except with the worst case scenario, in which the fumes will cause rapid hair loss...but I don't think you have to worry about that."   
  
He smirked at my semi-mean spirited joke, "Indeed. But at least the hair I used to have never made it to gray."  
  
"I like my hair, thank you very much. Some women are attracted to that."  
  
"Oh, just like some men prefer their women blue?"   
  
"Exactly."  
  
It was difficult. The chemicals that the formula called for were rare and could be lethal if not handled properly; but I am a scientist, and this experiment meant everything to me.   
  
Alone, each one of the chemicals were dangerously unstable, but with the perfect amount of each one, they were harmless and more importantly, effective.  
  
I checked the formula several times to make sure that I was going about the task correctly. The way it turned out, the antidote was a liquid.   
  
I watched on the magnified screen as the bright green dots that represented the serum in Mystique's blood dissolved once they encountered the antidote.   
  
"Charles, Charles, look! It's working, it's actually working!" Yes, the serum was quickly being eradicated from her system.   
  
"My god, Eric, you've done it! You have stopped the FoH in its tracks! This is wonderful, Eric, you're brilliant."  
  
Charles wheeled his chair over to my lab stool and shook my hand. "Congratulations! Would you like to do the honors?"  
  
He handed me a cell phone. "What is this?" I asked.  
  
"All of the vehicles, whether they're owned by an older student or a faculty member, are equipped with com-links. Scott's is no different. Call her Eric, cure her, and then get out of my house. You've been a bad influence on the students."  
  
I smiled and rolled my eyes. "I've only spoken to a few of the students, and all I do is encourage them, Charles. If that encouragement should lead them out of your school, then who am I to stop them?"  
  
"Encouraging them? More like recruiting." He stated flatly.   
  
"Well, you do have a remarkably well trained unit and an entire school at your disposal. All I have is Mystique and Pyro."  
  
"I thought that stealing two of my students would be enough."  
  
He left the lab with that witty remark. I smiled at the comment and glanced at a clock on the wall. It was very late, almost two o'clock in the morning...I guess Charles and I had been working harder than we thought!   
  
Yes, it was late, but wasn't this announcement more important than beauty sleep?  
  
Mystique, soon you will be back to normal and return home to our island with Pyro and I. I care for you so much. Perhaps a trip around the world is in order. I'll take you to France, Spain, China, Australia, wherever you want to go. We deserve the vacation after all this, and besides, we could teach Pyro a thing or two along the way.   
  
I punched in the code for Scott's com-link.  
  
*^*^*^*^*^  
  
The phone woke me up.  
  
I was lying on my stomach on the bed, but I wasn't in my own room. I looked around and saw Jake sleeping next to me. His chest rose and fell normally...he was okay.  
  
At least he didn't have a concussion!  
  
His TV was still on, I must've fell asleep and left it on.  
  
"Beep- beep, beep-beep."  
  
Oh, yeah, the phone. Kind of hard to get your head on straight at two in the morning.   
  
'My purse...where'd I leave it? Oh, yeah, it's on the couch.'   
  
I got up off the bed and went into the living room. It was that com-link I took out of Scott's car.  
  
"Hello?" I asked through a yawn.  
  
"Mystique." Oh, God, it was Eric! That will certainly wake you up, no matter what time it was!  
  
"Eric...I..." I was getting upset just from hearing his voice; this was the first time we had spoken since that night at the school.   
  
"I developed an antidote for you, Mystique. Please, come back to the school, I can cure you, and we can all go home."  
  
I heard every word he said, but it was so unbelievable. He created a cure, just for me. So that I could be the mutant me again, so that I could be happy. He wanted me back, he didn't sound angry with me for hitting him, he just wanted me to come home.  
  
And here I was in another man's bedroom. I kissed Jake; I took the invitation.   
  
"Hey, who's on the phone?"   
  
I spun around, Jake stood in the doorway to the bedroom. With him laid a whole world of possibility, no one knew that I was a mutant, if I stayed with him, I could lead a normal, happy life. His pants were slung low on his hips, baring his muscles. His hair was falling into his eyes, and he grinned at me.  
  
I disconnected with Eric. 


	24. Choice

A cure would bring me back to the dangerous life of being a mutant.  
  
A man named Jake Truman would provide the safe, normal life of a woman.  
  
I could get my power back, but I would never be safe.  
  
I could stay with Jake, but Eric would never forgive me.   
  
I wouldn't forgive myself.  
  
Obviously, I had a great deal to think about.  
  
"It was just a wrong number, don't worry about it. You shouldn't even be walking around, now go on, go lay down." The lie rolled off my tongue, easier to tell than the truth.  
  
"Are you coming?" he asked, grinning devilishly.  
  
"I don't think that's a good idea. But we'll see each other tomorrow, how's that?"   
  
He was disappointed at my declination, but just nodded. "All right then."   
  
I left Jake's room, and went back to my own suite.  
  
That face was staring back at me from the mirror above the bathroom sink.   
  
The short blonde hair. The fair complexion. The blue eyes.   
  
They were mine, I was born with those features, that was who I was; who I was supposed to be.  
  
I sighed. This was going to be a long night. I needed to sleep on it.  
  
I climbed into bed, and let my mind drift off.   
  
I would make the choice the next day, but whichever life I did choose, I would tell Eric. He deserved to know the truth.  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
My sleep was restless, and I awoke early. I stood before my window and watched the people walk by on the street below. 'Lucky,' I thought. I was sure that their lives weren't this confusing and complicated.   
  
Confusing, no.   
  
I knew what was wrong, what made the decision so difficult. I still loved Eric very deeply, and I truly did want to go back to him...but I knew what was waiting for me if I did.   
  
More danger and more enemies.   
  
I could die. Eric could die, and I don't want him to leave me again. It was painful enough the first time after the Statue of Liberty. My mutation was purely physical; I can't control anything beyond my body like Eric or John. They could get hurt trying to help me in our next battle. I'm a danger to them. It would be better for all of us if I just left.   
  
The only problem was that I had nowhere to go except to Jake.   
  
He liked me; that much was obvious from last night. So focused on looking his best that he forgot to clean up after himself and almost got himself killed.   
  
I hadn't wanted to sleep with him, but I also didn't want to be alone that night.   
  
The circumstances were a little strange, but I got both wishes.   
  
Oh, well. He'd be okay, maybe I would be too. (Sigh) I wish that I could go back in time to when Eric was just my teacher "Mr. Lehnsherr" and I could ask him what to do. He had always given me the best advice. God, was Eric really my teacher? It seems like a million years ago that I was the new girl at Xavier's and he was my mentor.   
  
What a long way we've come. Together.  
  
'I love you Eric, very much...but I don't want to be the reason that you fail. I don't want you to see me as your weakness.'   
  
Someone was knocking at the door. I went to answer it, a little irritated. Some of us are trying to decide what to do with our lives!   
  
"Oh, Jake, it's you." He was a little more dressed up than usual, dark slacks and a blue sweater. He also was carrying an armful of lilies. God, he wasn't making this decision any easier by being so sweet to me!   
  
"Here. I thought that the flowers would distract you enough so that you would forget my idiocy from last night."   
  
I let him in and put the flowers in a vase. "It wasn't idiocy, you were just a little careless. I assume you learned something from it." I asked, flashing a flirty smile.  
  
"Oh yeah, the whole room is bone dry. Would you like some breakfast?" He was being sweet, and offering food. Of course I couldn't say no to that!   
  
*^*^*^*^*  
  
We went up to the hotel cafe and grabbed a quick bite, then we wandered through the city. The shops, the shows, Jake treated me to them all. He was still trying to make up for the night before, which was fine by me.   
  
Hell, I was getting some new clothes out of the deal, so why not?   
  
Jake liked telling me jokes, he was very funny. I was laughing so hard that my sides hurt for days afterwards. Time sure does fly when you're having fun, one minute you're finishing up breakfast at the hotel, the next minute you're finishing up after dinner cocktails at Suite 16.   
  
I was laughing and having a ball with Jake, until I noticed my watch. "Oh, man! It's late already, how did that happen?"   
  
"What's the matter, Misty? Afraid you'll break curfew?" He didn't even know my real name.  
  
"No, but I have to go."   
  
"Why? I thought we were having a good time here."   
  
"No, Jake, we were, it's just that I made a promise to myself and I can't break it. I have to go now." He frowned, upset that I put a stop to all the fun.   
  
"Do you need me to go back to the hotel with you?"   
  
"No, I'll be fine on my own."   
  
"Are you sure? It's pretty late, I mean it could be dangerous."   
  
"I can handle myself, it's probably better if I'm alone for a while." I kissed him on the cheek. "Good night Jake."   
  
I walked back to the hotel as quickly as I could. There was no more reason to avoid seeing Eric; I had made my decision while I was with Jake.   
  
I stepped out of the trendy club, and started walking.  
  
The hotel came into view, but instead of going into the building, I headed towards the parking garage. Scott's car was still where I had parked it, shattered window and all.   
  
I climbed in, and started the ignition with the wires I had pulled out from under the steering column. The engine purred as I guided the vehicle out of the stacked concrete maze, then roared as I drove out of the city towards Westchester.   
  
Eric deserved to know what I intended to do, whether it be staying as a human or becoming my mutant self again. I had already made my choice, but the long drive gave me plenty of chances to second-guess myself.   
  
The prospect of changing my mind was tempting, but I had already made my decision, and I had to stick by it...if it didn't work out, I could adjust somehow, it would be difficult, but I could still do it.   
  
I'm a survivor.  
  
The mansion stood out from the surrounding forest, especially at night. There were lights in the trees, and on the front gates, making it easy to find in the darkness.  
  
I parked Scott's car in the garage, right where I had found it. Except for the broken window and exposed wires, the car was fine...hopefully he wouldn't be too pissed off at me for stealing-borrowing!- it.   
  
I let myself into the house, it was quiet and dimly lit; since it was past ten I guess it was "lights out" for the students. I took the elevator down to the lower levels of the mansion, and headed towards the medical lab.   
  
'Maybe Eric is down there and we can talk,' I reasoned.   
  
He had no idea that this choice was so hard for me to make; it should be a no- brainer. Should be, but it isn't. I have been stuck as a human woman, in my own body, for over three months. I should have been miserable all that time, but I wasn't.   
  
Jake was not the only man who went out of his way to please me. But it wasn't just the men's reactions to me that made me want to stay human, it was all of the people that I came into contact with. No one shied away from me, no one called me a monster/demon/alien...I was just another human to them.   
  
It felt good to be normal after so many people have painfully pointed out that I wasn't, and never could be.   
  
Eric loved me and I loved him. He's been the best part of every day for years. I longed to see him again; it felt like we were apart for years. I came upon his workstation at one of the lab tables.   
  
He had cleaned it up a lot, no reason to work anymore since he created the cure for me. The laptop computer Charles let him use was off to the side, his test documents were tucked neatly into the proper folders, and right there in the center, between the computer and folder, was a tiny bottle.   
  
I picked it up and read the label. It was in Eric's handwriting, "Negation Serum Antidote".   
  
That's pretty direct.   
  
I took a closer look at the bottle. It was a tiny glass container; the liquid inside was dark green. I stared at the antidote for a long time...inside the bottle was my power, my mutation, and all of the dangers that went along with it.  
  
*^*^*  
  
I left the lab.   
  
The bottle was replaced, right back to where I had found it, and I was still in search of Eric. He wasn't in the medical lab; maybe he'd be in the room we had briefly shared. It was late, and there was no more reason for him to stay up late working...he should be resting, but I still had to talk to him, if only for a few minutes.   
  
It appeared that no one knew I was here; everyone must have still been asleep. I emerged from the elevator, and took the stairs to the bedrooms. I must have been away from the house for longer than I thought, because I couldn't remember which room was ours.  
  
I peeked inside door number one: Cyclops was sleeping by himself, probably dreaming of Jean. Eric wasn't able to save her, because Jean hadn't wanted to be saved. She had wanted an escape from the horrible choice put before her: the mysterious stranger or the long-time love.  
  
Man, could I relate to that!   
  
I closed Scott's door and moved down the hall, I checked door number two: John!   
  
I hadn't seen him for the longest time, not since before I left. We had not bonded the way that he and Eric so obviously had. John looks up to him like the leader of the pack, almost like a father. On the other side, Eric sees a lot of himself in John, and I can too.   
  
I watched him sleep, he looked very peaceful despite the stress that being in this house must cause him. The X-men, the other students and even his two little buddies Bobby and Rogue had treated him more or less like a traitor because he had left with us that day at the lake. It was nice having him around; he was the addition we needed to make our lives the perfect parody of family. The Master of Magnetism, the shape shifter and their son the pyromaniac. I smiled at the thought and watched him for a little longer.  
  
He rolled over in his sleep and I shut the door.   
  
Behind door number three I found the right room, but no Eric. His bed was turned down and rumpled, but he wasn't in it. I stepped into the room, and looked around for clues to his whereabouts. I laid down on the bed where he had been, pleased to find that it was still warm. I hugged his pillow to my chest and smelled it, breathing him in.   
  
He had left the room very recently, maybe to go to the bathroom or to get a midnight snack or something like that. What a surprise it would be if he would just walk in right now and found me here! I entertained the idea for just a little while longer, but my thoughts were interrupted when I heard something moving around behind me.   
  
I turned and saw that the curtains were ruffling in the cool night breeze. I was getting a little chilly, and went over to close the balcony doors. I got closer, and found what I had been looking for.   
  
Eric was on the balcony, looking out across the gardens.   
  
He hadn't noticed me yet, and I used that to my advantage. There was a small mirror on the wall, close to the balcony doors. I stepped up to it and took in my appearance, maybe that face could give me inner strength for once, rather than self loathing.  
  
My hair, my eyes, my skin.  
  
I was born with those features, that was who I was, who I was supposed to be.   
  
Eric had his back to me, and I swallowed. Past the fluttering curtains, I approached him slowly. 


	25. Life

Author's Note: Thanks to you all for the great reviews, I always assumed that Magneto and Mystique were together, ever since I saw the first X-men in 2000. I took that assumption and just ran with it. I even listed 12 observations proving that they are together based on canon from the two movies. Just in case anyone wants to know my reasons, I'll list them at the end of this chapter. Enjoy the last chapter of Power Couple! It's been a fun ride, hasn't it?

So disillusioned at what I had just heard on the other line, I had to run the conversation through my mind several times just to make sure. I am not blessed with heightened senses as Sabretooth and Wolverine are; that is to say, my sense of sound is not above the average man's.

That is not to say, however, that I couldn't trust my own ears.

I heard, very distinctly, "Hey, who's on the phone?"

A man's voice. With Mystique. At two in the morning.

She had then hung up on me.

For a moment, I stood there in the lab, dumbstruck. Mystique was with someone else; she had spent the night with another man while I was working to find the cure for her. My mind raced with questions.

'How did they meet?', 'Who was he?' and the like, but one question gave me pause.

'Did she care for this man?'

I felt jealous and possessive. This man had dared to touch- no, even approach- what was mine! I'd fly a crowbar through his brain! I'd slice him open with a blade! I'd rip him apart by his own molecules!

Then, all too quickly, damn rational thinking set in: Mystique was also responsible.

She was not a virgin when our relationship took that direction, and it never really bothered me before. I had no interest in who had bedded her first.

I was now more concerned with who had bedded her last.

We had not been intimate since before she was hit with the serum dart. It'd been a little over three months for both of us...or so I thought.

She had always had a healthy appetite; had she decided to dine at another man's table?

The thought made me sick with anger and I lost control for a moment. I looked down at the cell phone Charles had lent me, the tiny screen was flickering with jumbled symbols. The overhead lights flashed on and off, the metal chairs in the lab were twisting violently, my emotions were being manifested by powerful magnetic fields.

I waved my hand to correct the problems I had inadvertently created.

'Damn the humans for shooting her with that blasted serum!'

'Damn Charles for telling me about the blood test!'

'Damn her for running away!'

I wanted to kill the man she was with, whoever he was; I wanted to destroy every last member of the Friends of Humanity; but most of all I just wanted Mystique to come and tell me that it wasn't true. That she hadn't been unfaithful and that I was her only lover, I wanted to hear her tell me that she wanted to become a mutant again and return to the island with Pyro and I.

My heart sank when I realized what I wanted to hear: lies.

She has been trapped in her human body for over three months, no doubt that she had become accustomed- maybe even attached- to it. I'm positive that by now she has begun to enjoy being treated like the beautiful woman she is.

Perhaps she would prefer to stay in her human form, with the man I heard over the phone.

I closed my eyes and sighed, I was so tired. My brain needed a break from all of this. I straightened my workstation and looked at the antidote I had made. It came to me in a dream, I made it for her. I set the tiny bottle down on the table, and went up to my room.

I had to talk to her, but I needed to rest.

I was awakened the next morning by someone knocking on the door to my room.

"What?" I demanded from my half-sleep stupor.

"Uh, Eric, can I come in or what?" asked the voice. After a moment, I placed the voice as Pyro.

"Yes, come in." I replied as I sat up. He let himself into my room.

He was also a late riser, judging from his rumpled hair and bedclothes.

"I hear that you made a cure for Mystique." He said. I had almost forgotten about the night before, and he just had to bring it up! 

Damn teenagers.

"Yes, yes, I did."

"That's good, so we'll be leaving here soon, right?" He seemed nervous, and strangely eager to get away from the school.

"I suppose so, why do you ask?"

"Well, it's just..."

"Just what John?" I asked him. I was beginning to get concerned at his uneasy behavior. He was shuffling his feet and avoiding my eyes.

In a way, he reminded me of Anya when she had a problem that only I could solve. The memory of my tragic "talisman" was painful, even though she had died so long ago.

Mystique had once remarked that she, Pyro and I made quite an interesting "family". If that was what we were, then Pyro was to be our son. Thusly, if he were the son, then I would have to be a father for the second time in my life.

"What is it?" I asked him again. He stood there by the door, visibly uncomfortable.

"Well, I'd just prefer that we leave as soon as possible, that's all. I didn't really like it here when I was a student, I don't like it any better now that I've stayed with you."

"I can understand that." Then, a thought struck me. "I know I've been neglecting you John, and I am sorry."

"Hey, I get it that you've been working to help Mystique, it's cool."

"No, it's not. You're part of our family, and I should've made time for you, no matter what has been happening in my personal life."

"It's okay, not like I'm a stranger to that kind of thing, remember?"

"Yes, I do remember. If you'd like, I can make it up to you." This was good; I could spend a little quality time with the boy, and take my mind off Mystique's betrayal for at least a few hours.

"Um, well, I was gonna watch a movie later today...you wanna watch it with me?"

"Splendid idea. I'll meet you in the student lounge later on, alright?"

"Cool."

I was to find that not even a film as riveting as Pyro's favorite, Jurassic Park 3, could keep my mind distracted from Mystique.

Pyro noticed this as well, and though he didn't say anything during the movie, he approached me about it later that night.

Seeking solitude as a replacement for my lover's arms, I took to walking through the gardens. They were as beautiful as they had been when I was a teacher here...that seemed like an eternity ago.

It had been dark, but a blazing light pierced through the shroud.

Pyro stood behind me, flames erupting from his open palm in a makeshift torch.

"What are you doing out here, John?" I asked. 

His sharp features were softened towards me, as if he felt pity. I hate pity. I had no want or need of it, especially from a child like him.

"I think we should talk." He brought two bottles from behind his back.

"No thank you." I said, turning from him.

I quickly stepped back from the firewall that had leapt up in front of me. I turned back to him, both impressed at his initiative and angered at his prodding.

"I said, I think we should talk." He dropped the firewall, but kept the torch and proffered one of the bottles to me.

"Well, if you insist." I relented, taking a bottle.

He walked along beside me, keeping his flame bright.

We made our way to the gazebo that rested on the other side of the pond in the middle of the gardens. It was large, and new to me. It had not been there when I was a teacher.

There was room inside for a few picnic tables, and I took a seat at the bench of one, while Pyro sat atop the table beside me.

I took a sip from the bottle he had given me and winced. "Pyro, where did you get this!" I asked.

John looked down at me and grinned devilishly, he was proud of his mischievous doing. "The Professor's private liquor cabinet, where else? The only things in the fridge was soda, I thought you might need something stronger. Speaking of which, the Professor needs to get some better locks, I didn't even need to use my powers to get at his wine."

"This isn't wine."

He shrugged, carefree and unapologetic. "I know, I thought we could drink that after we got back home."

Home. 

I smiled at Pyro. He was a clever boy, arrogant, but he had a good heart.

"Well, I have been known to take a red wine with dinner every so often. Remind me again, John, how old are you?"

"I'll be nineteen in a few months." He said defensively, as is he expected me to take away his drink.

I shrugged, much like he had only a moment before. "That's close enough to 21 for me. In Europe you would have been allowed to drink long before then. Cheers!"

We clicked our bottles together and just sat for awhile.

Sleep rarely comes easy to me, and this night is no different. Too much had happened for my mind to settle down for the night.

I tossed and turned in bed for over an hour before I finally gave up.

I threw back the blankets and went to the balcony to think. Looking out over the backyard, I recalled the memories of our relationship.

We had become close in this school, and conceived our first plot in that garden. She insisted that I take her under my wing when I decided to leave the school, and from there, our relationship grew.

From teacher and student to friends, to kindred spirits, to lovers to somehow becoming completely estranged.

She being trapped in her human body had made her doubt my feelings toward her.

Did she really think that the only reason I had stayed with her was for her transforming ability?

Apparently, that was the case, but how could I have made her see the truth?

I care for her, I love her.

She was upset that night, furious, it was because of that explosive emotional state that she revealed her suspicions.

She had no faith in my feelings for her, and she said as much with that slap.

She flew from the mansion to take refuge in a hotel, where she met HIM.

Try as I might, I could not find one good reason why a man would be in her hotel room at two o'clock in the morning, and have the situation be innocent.

"Hey, who's on the phone?"

How dare he speak to her with such a familiar tone! He did not know her; he only knew the disguise she wore and the lies she told him.

My anger was renewed at the memory. I had to speak with her as soon as possible, there were many things to say; things that had to be said in person.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair.

My gray hair. There is no denying it: I am an old man. Had Mystique found comfort in younger, stronger arms?

This is making me miserable, where is she?

I had contacted her a while ago, she could've made the trip from the city to the mansion several times already in the time that had passed since our quick discussion.

Maybe she didn't want to come back at all.

I sighed, and wished that Pyro had brought more than one bottle with him tonight.

"Eric." A woman called from behind me.

Mystique.

She was a beautiful sight. Her lithe body was draped in a short, low-cut emerald green dress. Her hair was left down to frame her face; her light eyes were wide and unsure. In the moonlight, she looked delicate and ethereal. She astounded me.

She looked so stunning that for a moment I forgot that I was angry with her.

My memory quickly returned.

I leaned against the railing of the balcony and gave her a hard stare.

"Hello." I said curtly as I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Oh, Eric!" She cried as tears suddenly began to roll down her cheeks.

I stayed where I was, but she came forward and tried to hug me.

I caught her slim wrists in my hands and forced her back a few steps.

"Eric, what?...I don't understand!"

I rolled my eyes and glared at her again. "Why don't you ask your new bedmate?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I may be old, Mystique, but I'm not deaf! I heard him over the phone!"

She remained silent, and avoided my eyes. She knew whom I meant, and it burned me to the core.

"So who is he, Mystique? Where did you meet? Did you two go to dinner or dancing while I was here, spending every spare moment developing that cure for you?"

"Eric, please, it wasn't like that!"

"Well, then why don't you go ahead and tell me what it was like?" I demanded.

"I did not sleep with him, Eric. I never slept with anyone."

"How can I believe that when I heard a man with you over the phone?"

"I swear that I never did, I didn't want to." She sighed. "But I was willing to, just so I wouldn't be alone any longer. He took me all over the city, and we kissed."

Her words were like venom.

"The he invited me into his room,"

'My God, is she going to describe the entire act to me?'

"Mystique, stop, I don't want to hear any more of this!"

"But I didn't sleep with him, Eric."

"What?"

"I didn't. He slipped on a puddle in the bathroom and hit his head. I didn't think it was serious enough to take him to a hospital, but I stayed in his room just to be sure. I must've fallen asleep watching TV, and your call woke me up. That's what you heard over the other line. I hung up on you because I was afraid..."

She hung her head, shedding tears. "Afraid of what?" I asked her.

"I was afraid of the choice I would have to make. I had to choose between two lives, and it's been killing me! I could either go back to being a feared and hated mutant or I could live a safe, normal life."

"Mystique, no, don't say it."

She came forward and tried to hug me again. This time, I did not stop her.

"I'm sorry, Eric, I'm so sorry."

My long time love was leaving me...

I held her slender frame in my arms, possibly for the last time. She felt good, warm and soft and just beautiful. She was the most beautiful woman in the world, whether she was blue or blonde, and she had just crushed me.

She let go, and I had no choice but to release her from the embrace.

She stood back for a moment, cruelly allowing me to take in the sight of her beauty again.

"I didn't mean to hurt you." She said as she came forward again, running her fingertips lightly over my face where she had slapped me. 

She was close, too close.

I couldn't stop myself, I kissed her.

She kissed me back.

I wrapped my hands around her waist; she slid her hands over my chest and shoulders.

I'm not sure how long we stayed like that; kissing with all of the pain, desperation, heartache and passion we had within us, but it didn't matter.

It would be the last time we would embrace this way, I wanted to make it last.

All too soon, the kiss ended. My eyes stayed closed, still entranced by her beauty. I could still taste her on my lips.

"I love you..." I whispered.

"I love you too." She replied, in a familiar voice.

I opened my eyes and saw her.

Mystique, just as she should be.

She stood before me: naked, her skin had darkened till it matched the same shade as the night sky, her chrome yellow eyes were wide, her flame red hair blowing about her face in the breeze.

"He didn't even know my real name, Eric. Life with you is dangerous, but I won't be living a lie."

I swept her into my arms and twirled her around right there on the balcony.

"Mystique, the antidote...?" I asked, so out of my mind with happiness at her return.

I set her back down onto her feet; her white teeth almost glowed against her midnight skin as she smiled back at me. 

"Yes, and its quite effective too! Thank God for you, Eric."

She dipped her head onto my shoulder, and just let me hold her.

I love her, this amazing blue woman.

"Eric, I missed you." She whispered.

Oh, I had missed that echoing, multi-toned voice. The way it flowed on the air, spoken music that pleased all of my senses. I loved to hear her say my name.

"And I, you." I replied.

She pressed herself closer to me to stave off the night chill.

I wrapped my arms around her and led her inside, closing the doors behind us with a minute touch of my power.

"Show me how much." Mystique whispered into my ear.

In an instant we were in bed, a tumble of panting kisses, eternal apologies and loving touches. I took Mystique as if it had been the first time-she groaned as I entered her, clutching my sweat-slick shoulders as I made the relentless encroachment. It felt like home when we were together, when I could feel her body stretch to accommodate my size, flexing and caressing me as I went in full and deep.

My moan mimicked Mystique's as I sheathed myself to the hilt, I gasped and shivered as she enveloped me within her tight, wet body.

"Mystique I love you."

The next morning, all was normal.

The Xavier students and teachers woke early to get to their classes.

A few select mutants, however, were allowed the luxury of sleeping in.

The young man with two names- first John Allerdyce and then simply Pyro- rolled over again in his sleep, almost falling off the bed.

Daylight crept across the floor of his old bedroom until it hit his still closed eyes.

"Ugh, no!" he groaned.

No one can sleep forever, and he reluctantly threw back the blanket and started his day.

A shower, a change of clothes, breakfast, brushing his teeth, etc.

'Even super-villains have to go through the normal stuff.' He reasoned, though he didn't feel very much like a real villain.

So far, the worst thing he had done was clean out the Professor's liquor cabinet the night before.

'Oh well, it helped Eric to talk...' he remembered.

"What makes you so sure that all of this was necessary, Pyro?" Eric had asked him.

Pyro had shrugged confidently, "Hey, I'm no stranger to the Weird Ways of The Female."

Eric had seemed both amused and interested in the revelation, "Oh, really? And what would a child like yourself know about women?"

"I'm not a child, okay? And I know plenty."

"Like what?"

"Well, I know enough to know that you and Mystique probably got into it, and that's why she left."

"Well, you wouldn't be wrong there." Eric said, relenting just the tiniest bit.

"But I also know enough to know that she likes you too much to stay gone for much longer. She'll come back."

"I'll drink to that."

They had clicked their bottles again, and parted ways shortly afterwards.

Like most of their exchanges, it was short and simple, but so many things can be said without words. 

Like, "I really look up to you" or "Thanks for not letting me drown"

Whatever, Eric was like family now, and so was Mystique, even though they never talked much.

He decided that the polite thing to do would be to check on him, since he had been so down the night before.

He knocked on the door. "Eric, are you awake yet?"

He could hear some muffled noises through the wood. A rattle, a thump. More interestingly, what sounded like voices.

Eric quickly opened the door, just a crack, and urged him quickly, "Yes, John, what is it?"

"Uh, I was just...are you ok?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, after last night, I just wanted to make sure." John's sharp eyes noticed a flash of blue behind Eric, and instantly understood.

"Oh, gotcha, I'll come back later, ok?"

Eric quickly shut the door.

"Glad to see that you and John have been bonding while I was gone." Mystique remarked as she lay down on the bed.

Eric smiled and sat down beside her, rubbing her back.

"Oh yes, he's come along quite well. Also, he's eager to get back to the island."

"Is he now?"

"Oh, yes, very much so. Between you and me, I don't think he likes this school very much."

"I'm shocked! Well, we should get going, shouldn't we?"

"Capitol idea. I'll start packing immediately."

Eric started to rise from the bed, but Mystique caught his arm. "I think we can stay for just a little longer, don't you?"

He swallowed, following her idea. "Y...yes, no rush."

All was forgiven, on both sides.

Jake represented a world I would never truly know. One filled with minivans, mortgage payments and family barbeques.

The normal world. The mundane, unsuspecting world of humans.

That world will change soon, they will know of mutants and our greatness.

But for now, that can wait. I had a family, and it was perfect the way it was.

A magnetic sociopath, a deceptive shape shifter, a rebellious pyromaniac.

Eric decided that after everything, we could all use a vacation.

I glanced out the window and could see the Eiffel Tower.

Pyro was happy to go off and explore on his own once he saw that the streets were filled with lovely Parisian girls his age. Good luck to him, this was the City of Love, after all.

"Will you tell me again?" I asked Eric.

I could feel him laugh a little at my question. "Will you say it again?" he asked.

I curled a little closer to him. "Eric." I whispered.

His eyes fluttered closed. For some reason, he had always like me to say his name. "Now it's your turn." I reminded him.

I felt an arm slip around my waist. "You are beautiful."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Yes, it was a dangerous life. A life far from perfection, but at the moment, it was pretty damn close.

THE END

Almost forgot my list!

1. In X-MEN (2000), it was implied that Magneto and Mystique lived together on the island. So did Toad and Sabretooth, but whatever.

2. The scene where Senator Kelly was in the chair, Mystique went up and hugged Magneto, not the other way around, and he smiled, obviously enjoying the physical contact. From that smile, I gather that close physical contact was a normal thing for them...if you get my meaning ;) Now why would she hug him like that? Not because they're friends, I don't hang all over my guy friends like that! Do you? I didn't think so!

3. In the Statue of Liberty, when Magneto confronted the X-men, he used his com-link to ask for Mystique first. Why not Toad?

4. Okay, moving away from the first movie, in X2, when Mystique was being Senator Kelly, she/he got all excited when she/he heard that Magneto was alive. If she was just his henchman (or henchwoman, whatever) then she wouldn't have cared either way if Eric was alive.

5. Mystique went through a lot of trouble to help Magneto. Think about it: she could've gotten herself killed at the office of William Stryker, but she snuck in anyway. Now that's commitment!

6. When Magneto realized that the guard had metal in his body, he instantly knew that Mystique was behind it. He called her "beautiful", now to the audience and to the guard it would have been taken to mean that he was talking about the shape Mystique took-but maybe, just maybe, Magneto was talking about her as she normally is…it's a long shot, huh? But either way, he still knew that it was her giving him the means to escape.

7. They were laughing onscreen for just the tiniest second on the X-jet before Magneto made the joke about Rogue's hair. We don't really know what they were laughing about, but I think that it's safe to say that they were making fun of Wolverine when Mystique played that trick on him.

8. Wolverine said, "She's good", complimenting Mystique on her breaking into the dam, but then Magneto said "You have no idea"...yeah, see where I'm going with this?

9. When Jean and Scott were about to fight, Magneto said, "This is one lover's quarrel we cannot get involved in my dear." Granted, he once called Rogue my dear in the first X-men movie, right before he was about to grab her face and kill her. It's not like Magneto is the type of person to toss out affection to everyone, so I think calling Mystique and Rogue 'my dear' is an appropriate way to show that he isn't a monster and has a merciful side, you know what I mean?

10.When Xavier was hurting the mutants, she called him Eric instead of Magneto.

11.When he saw her in pain, he looked scared that she might die. If she was just one of his henchmen (like my sister so strongly insists), he wouldn't have been so concerned.

12. Eric can fly, he didn't necessarily need to take the helicopter with Mystique, but he went along with her anyway to find one so that she could escape.


End file.
